In Which Merlin Is Rewritten As a Female Character
by Gen-in-the-Eve
Summary: In which a female Merlin approaches seasons 1-3 in disguise as the boy Myrddin, unwittingly becomes Arthur's manservant, keeps multiple secrets afloat despite being a terrible liar, tries to avoid complying with the demands of her parents (King Cyngen and Queen Bertha) to marry the annoying prince of Camelot, all while harboring the secret desire to visit a tavern.
1. In Which the Princess Decides to Meet th

**In Which Merlin Is Rewritten as a Female Character**

In Which the Author Delivers a Disclaimer: I do not own the show Merlin or any of its plots or characterizations of the Arthurian legend (which I also do not own).

In Which the Author Writes an Author's Note: This fic assumes that you have watched all the episodes of season 1-3. It will be reasonably canon compliant, given that Merlin is a girl and that change encouraged me to be rather creative with other aspects of the show. I am assuming readers are familiar with each episode of those seasons. Though the chapters will generally follow each episode, I will not recap every element. Unless I have something new to say about a scene that does not include the main characters, I am not likely to make more than a passing mention to it. This allows me to expound on scenes where the changes in gender and relationships influence the plotline, as well as adding new twists. I hope that doing this makes the story more interesting to read especially since as much fun as sword fights are to watch, they are tedious to read. As to season 4, I am not particularly fond of most of the episodes (I find Agravaine excessively irritating), and so although certain aspects from the season might make an appearance, as a whole, I have altered the first three seasons enough that continuing on would be rather nonsensical. I would like to add that I am indebted to the many wonderful stories I've read on this site, in particular the ones featuring a girl Merlin. While I hope that my story can stand on its own feet, I was grateful to be able to see how others had dealt with a gender swap.

_In Which the Author Writes a Second Note: Due to my long absence and my further work on the story as a whole, I have reworked some aspects of the first three chapters. Nothing major was changed, but hopefully it is a bit better for this._

* * *

**Chapter One: In Which the Princess Decides to Meet the Prince as a Pauper **

* * *

Merlin walked into Camelot with a frequently stumbling lope that hopefully passed for a walk of a rather clumsy young man. It had taken her a couple of weeks of practice for this walk to become second nature to her for whenever she was in breeches. The constant tripping was a desperate ploy to help disguise the graceful gait that had been drilled into her since birth, as befitting the only princess of Powys. Of course, at the moment she was a temporarily—and secretly—exiled princess, having angered King Cyngen and Queen Bertha by her refusal to marry Prince Arthur.

Though Merlin had grown to be a reasonably graceful, charming and beautiful sort of princess, she had never quite fit into a family that had not entirely expected her birth. There are various royal reactions to a royal birth, particularly if the birth is of a daughter and not a son. Had the kingdom of Powys not already produced three strapping knights as heirs, the birth of Princess Merlin might have been heralded somewhat differently.

But to Cyngen and Bertha, Merlin was a surprising but long sought after means to an end. Though the alliance their kingdom had with Camelot was strong, evidenced by Powys following Uther into the Great Purge of Sorcery two years prior to the arrival of the princess, nothing cemented two kingdoms together so well as a permanent union. Hence Merlin's birth was considered fortuitous.

Bertha and Cyngen may have loved their daughter, but the machinations and political games they played were more suited for the three dutiful sons. Bertha, despite long having wanted a girl to follow the boisterousness of her third son Rhodri, did not in reality spend that much time with her daughter. At birth her usefulness had been proclaimed to be in the marriage bed and the queen had other things to occupy her time in the eighteen or so years before that political scheme became viable.

And so Merlin spent much of her formative years under the guidance of Hunith, her nurse. With her parent's minds occupied and three adoring but much older brothers, Hunith and her son Will were in many ways closer than family. They alone were the protectors of Merlin's greatest secret, the bewildering fact that she had been born with magic.

Though Hunith was sure that the king and queen would not execute their daughter had they known her secret, likely choosing to leave her unacknowledged and exiled, she had counseled the princess to hide her magic from her earliest days, leaving Will and Hunith as Merlin's only confidants. The secret she kept ensured even more of a distance in her relationship with her family.

Nevertheless, it had come as a shock to nearly everyone when Merlin was not inclined to comply with her one destined duty: to marry Arthur. When no exhortations swayed Merlin on the subject of matrimony, a banishment of dubious benevolence was devised instead, hoping it would make her appreciate her duty. Merlin chose to join Hunith and Will, who had moved back to Hunith's home village Ealdor now that Merlin had reached marriageable age and did not require a nurse. With much persuasion, Cyngen agreed. Because it was in the neighboring kingdom, Merlin had gone in disguise to live there, posing as Will's younger brother. Concealing her identity had been a safety precaution, seeing as she would be unguarded and unable to call on the aide of Cyngen when secretly in Cenrid's kingdom.

After a series of creative but unconvincing attempts to disguise her gender, Merlin had managed to find a way to bind all of her hair to the top of her head, and then cover it all with a good wig, darker than her real hair color. With a little magic helping the illusion, enchantments to ensure the wig stayed on and her feminine assets remained bound, a spell to deepen her voice, and a neckerchief to help disguise her lack of Adam's Apple, her transformation to Myrddin was complete.

At first, Ealdor was a breath of fresh air. Will tutored her in the walk and talk, and she enjoyed the brash and earnest manner she could speak with as an untitled boy.

After two weeks though, trying and failing to fit into the small farming community, Merlin and Will had approached Hunith with a plan. Perhaps if Merlin went to Camelot as the boy Myrddin she could meet this Prince Arthur, see if he could prove willing and inclined to protect her secret. If so, despite Uther's notoriously ruthless stance on magic, perhaps she could marry, allowing Merlin to resume her true place. Accordingly, Hunith arranged with her half-brother Gaius, who was the court physician in Camelot, for Myrddin to be his ward.

And that was why, two months after being banished, Merlin found herself walking into the citadel, enjoying the novelty of her unheralded arrival. Her eyes were on everything, but no eyes were on her.

The beheading of a sorcerer dispelled her excitement. It was a sobering warning. Though she had long ago accepted the terrible fate of magic users, the coldness in Uther's tone, followed by his calling for a celebration chilled her. She resolved that she must be more careful with magic than ever. Only moments later, she walked into the physician's quarters and startled the man she presumed to be Gaius into falling off his ledge; she slowed down time instinctively.

"What did you just do?" Gaius demanded.

"Um..." Hunith had promised that Gaius was trustworthy, and that as he had practiced magic in the old days he would be able to help her better control her gifts. But Merlin had been planning on waiting a little longer before revealing the truth and seeking his help.

"Tell me."

"I have no idea what happened." Merlin continued to protest, but it was clear that she needed to work on her lying skills. Gaius raised a disbelieving eyebrow to impossible heights when she admitted to being born like this. Deciding to switch tactics she introduced herself as Hunith's boy and was soon settled in the back room of the physician's quarters.

* * *

Waking up in Camelot was different from the small house she had shared with Hunith and different again from her own royal chambers. For a moment she thought she had heard someone calling out her true name, but she saw no one when she opened her eyes. Anyway, no one could possibly realize the princess was in Camelot. She fully intended to take advantage of that fact, to do things she had always wanted to do but never been able to. She had yet to miss being Merlin.

Over breakfast, Gaius already clearly interested in her magic, asked about spells and incantations after seeing her stop the bucket of water effortlessly. Merlin had little in the way of answers for him, having been able to do everything she did since birth. Unable to openly discuss magic with other users, she knew little about how others ensorcelled. Realizing this, Gaius let her go after a few minutes, sending her out on a few easily navigated errands.

As Merlin set out to make the deliveries for the court physician, she felt so completely liberated from being herself that she thought she could completely be herself. No one knew she was the princess. In fact, no one really cared who she was at all. And that was fantastic.

As Merlin enjoyed her unheralded presence, she mentally began composing a list of everything she wanted to do while a boy. Regardless of whether she ended up decreeing Arthur marriageable material, this was a once in a life time opportunity.

Thinking of Arthur, Merlin supposed she really ought to come up with some sort of battle plan for how she was going to meet the prince. She couldn't simply demand to meet him after all. And who knew how much time she would need before she could make an adequate judgment about his secret keeping ability? Perhaps she should simply wait for him to be brought to Gaius' sick and injured? The more she thought of this, the better an idea it seemed. She would then know how he was when he was in a mood and that seemed a far safer impression to go off of than if he were merely polite.

Having settled in her mind when and how she was going to meet the prince, Merlin began making note of things around the citadel that she wanted to see. She saw the stocks and idly wondered when the next poor soul would be standing there; part of her had harbored a desire to throw rotten fruit at whoever was in them ever since she had first seen them as a young lass. She had just seen a sign for a tavern, the Rising Sun, and concluded that of utmost importance was her finding time to get a drink in said tavern when her silly musings were interrupted by a group of noblemen bullying a servant, throwing knives at the target he carried while he ran to and fro.

Merlin hardly took a moment to think about before she leapt into saving mode, much as she had last night with Gaius and magic. Dimly the reasonable part of her brain remembered Will having to save her in Ealdor, pointing out that while, yes, she could swear all she liked as a peasant, she was in fact disguised as a rather unimposing boy. Disregarding this sage advice, Merlin placed a well-worn boot on the target, calling out to the arrogant noblemen, "Come on, that's enough."

A blond noble, who had been laughing only moments before turned towards her. "What?" he said in a disbelieving voice.

"You've had your fun, my friend," Merlin replied easily. Though princesses were supposed to be coy, no one escaped living years in a court without learning how to diffuse tempers.

"Do I know you?" the blond asked, striding toward her. Merlin extended her hand.

"I'm Myrddin."

"So I don't know you?" Maybe the fashion in Camelot's court was to be repetitive.

"No."

"Yet you called me _friend_?"

"My mistake," Merlin retorted.

"Yes, I think so."

"I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass." Merlin hardly had a moment to revel in her triumph of blunt rudeness to a noble before he retorted.

"Nor I one who could be so stupid. Tell me Myrddin, do you know how to walk on your knees?" the blond said, advancing. Not liking his aggression, Merlin resorted to the cheap, but erstwhile always effective, trick of pulling rank. True, no one knew she had any, and she hadn't actually been introduced to King Uther, but she'd always found that mentioning the king, especially such a fierce one as Uther was reputed to be, helped bring people again to reasonableness.

"Who do you think you are? The king?" she asked as the blond twisted her arm behind her back.

"No, I'm his son, Arthur." Merlin turned her head to get another look before the guards led her away. Her parents wanted her to marry _this_? So much for her plans of possible capitulation. She would resist marriage with everything in her, even if that meant a permanent relocation to the boring and small world of Ealdor.

Later, as Merlin sat in the dungeons, she recalled with a grin that she had wanted to have every possible experience a princess didn't have and this was certainly a _fresh_ perspective of a castle indeed. Idly she noted she really ought to check out Powys' cells. It would be a small victory to have nicer dungeons, but with such arrogance as was to be had in Arthur, Merlin was willing to take her victories where she could.

* * *

Merlin had progressed from the dungeons to the stocks. The situation was so patently ridiculous in many ways, that she couldn't suppress the grin when she wondered what her brothers would say were they to see her now. Cadell would have been the most appalled, while Rhodri would have been the most likely to see humor in it. Merlin wryly reflected he probably would be one of the tomato flingers.

Absently Merlin noticed a little girl trying, and failing to throw her lettuce far enough to hit her. Reminded of her earlier resolution to participate in produce throwing at the stocks, Merlin grinned. Though this wasn't quite what she had intended, she could hardly deny anyone else the chance to fling fruit with abandon. So she grinned and kept encouraging the little girl until at last Merlin was hit on the nose. She was not the only vegetable flinger to cheer at this small, but clearly important victory.

Just when Merlin was starting to get bored, about an hour into her punishment, Merlin was approached by a girl who looked to be about her age. She introduced herself as Guinevere, and the Lady Morgana's maid. She applauded Merlin's bravery. Merlin laughed when Gwen said she didn't look like a big muscly man. All things considered, she was rather glad she didn't bear a resemblance to Arthur. When Gwen mocked Arthur as a "rough, tough, save-the-world kind of guy", as well as a bully, Merlin wondered if she was about to get her first real female friend. Rank wouldn't matter here. Gwen seemed genuinely kind, and her slight awkwardness was clearly born of honesty, a character not raised to play the endless political games that had characterized the princess' friendships as a child. Merlin was happy she was free from such machinations here. As a boy she could be brash, and as a commoner she could be honest. Happy at this unexpected development, she once more grinned at her new fans.

Once Merlin had returned to Gaius' chambers and cleaned up, she found herself receiving yet another lecture on caution and discretion. Merlin had received many such lectures in her life, and was not unused to them. But Gaius was not opposed to her asking questions. The old man was open about some of the causes of the purge. He had lived in Camelot through it all, was in fact an adviser to the king. Though Merlin couldn't find herself agreeing with the measures Uther had taken, particularly with the dragons, Merlin was grateful for the knowledge. The purge had never been something she could discuss back home. And as Gaius had said, power was easy to abuse. Remembering that prat Arthur, she just thought it didn't matter so much whether the power was magical, political, or physical.

Gaius continued to make use of Merlin's skills as a delivery boy, asking her to take a tonic to Lady Helen. Merlin found herself rather looking forward to the feast that evening; she enjoyed singing herself, and had missed the courtly musical entertainments during her banishment in Ealdor. Her eighteenth birthday, just before the whole arranged marriage fiasco, had been celebrated with a feast and the finest bard in Powys.

With the audacity born from finding herself a complete nonentity in Camelot—aside from any notoriety that might result from calling his royal highness an ass—Merlin poked around Lady Helen's desk, curious at the doll and hidden book she saw there. Lady Helen's behavior surprised her, but she shrugged it aside and decided to use the time she had to see more of Camelot.

* * *

When Arthur saw the same brash peasant who had defended his servant yesterday, he felt a perverse thrill. Much as it appalled him that someone would speak to him as this boy had, it was entertaining.

Yesterday Arthur had been in what Morgana referred to as one of his moods. Disgruntled by a poor training session with the knights and frustrated when his father made yet another not so oblique hint at his should be upcoming marriage—though thank goodness the visit from Cadall, Powys' crown prince, had not yielded more than strong hints at future alliance—and encouraged by his chortling friends to show off his impressive aim with the knife, Arthur had taunted his servant.

Today, after Arthur taunted the strange peasant to not run away, he was pleased the boy once again turned to look at him. At the look on the boy's face, the prince was reminded again of the fleeting impression he had had the day before, when the boy had found out his identity; the look said plainly that Arthur had been judged and found wanting.

Sure that he couldn't be interpreting that look correctly, Arthur continued to goad the boy. "I thought you were deaf as well as dumb."

The boy straightened. "Look, I told you yesterday you're an ass. I just hadn't realized you were a royal one." Then insults flew between the two of them and before Arthur had really thought about it, he had thrown a mace to the lad. Not only was the boy brash, he was also a braggart. "I warn you, I've been trained to kill since birth."

Myrddin didn't seem impressed. "Oh? And how long have you been training to be a prat?"

Arthur scoffed. "You can't speak to me like that." Amusement was in the other's eye, even as he apologized. He gave a mockery of a little bow.

"And how long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?"

And thus ensued a mace fight in the marketplace. Despite the idiot clearly never having handled a mace before, Arthur was unable to land a proper blow on Myrddin. He certainly landed a blow on many a market stall, which he knew he'd have to pay for, but Myrddin always managed to wiggle away before it landed. Furthermore, Arthur himself was tripping over things, running into others, and in general being far clumsier than he ever recalled having been.

Thus it was that somehow Myrddin, despite having dropped his own mace, ended up grabbing the prince's once he fell into a stack of sacks and just as it looked like Arthur just might be facing a humiliating sort of defeat, the boy was distracted by someone in the crowd. Arthur quickly took advantage of the moment, grabbing the nearest weapon he could and reversing their positions. Once he had trounced Myrddin with a broom, he looked to see who had distracted the lad. Seeing the ever raised eyebrow of Gaius, and that the lad went off him, Arthur realized this must be the ward that was coming to help Gaius. Interesting.

* * *

Though Merlin had to resort to cheap tricks to even survive the mace fight in one piece, there was something thrilling about being able to toss around words like ass and swing a mace at the conceited knight, behavior she certainly wouldn't have been allowed to indulge in if she had met his royal arrogance as his betrothed.

But it was just as well that Gaius interfered. Of course, he gave her a berating about the proper use of magic as soon as they were in his quarters. Merlin was so sick of being told not to use her magic, of having to hide such an integral part of who she was. Sore from the number of things she had collided with and feeling a pretty significant scrape on her back, she walked stiffly into her room, carefully lying down on her stomach. She was happy to be able to be a commoner, to be able to meet people like Gwen, but it was even more dangerous for magic here in Camelot than at home, even if in technicality the laws were the same. Uther's voice at the execution conveyed a ruthlessness toward the sorcerer that her own father's had never possessed.

While she was contemplating this, Gaius came in with a rag and bucket. Merlin assumed he was just going to leave the bucket so that she could clean her wounds.

"Sit up, take off your shirt."

Merlin panicked. While Hunith had sent her to Gaius with the expectation that he would help her with her magic—which he was already giving advice on—it had never really come up what to do if it was revealed she was in fact female. Should she confess the whole deal, royalty and everything? Say she was Hunith's daughter? Simply insist that she could clean the wounds herself? But then what if something happened and she really got injured and was knocked unconscious? Gaius would assume it was safe to take off her shirt and that would simply not do. She at least needed to confess her gender.

Merlin took a deep breath, "That really wouldn't be proper for a small scrape like this."

Gaius looked at her, clearly thinking she was being ridiculous.

"Because the thing is, I'm not really Hunith's son at all. I'm a girl." Merlin looked up to see his incredulous face. She had confessed everything else to Gaius, including the treasonous magic. She might as well tell him the rest. "In fact I'm not even Hunith's child. But she basically raised me and she loved me like a daughter and I consider her to be my second mother and Will to be a brother to me."

Gaius seemed to be contemplating this. "Were you raised in Ealdor?"

"No. I was raised in Powys. Hunith was my nursemaid. I'm on temporary exile in Ealdor because I don't appreciate my duty enough to marry a complete stranger who it turns out is a complete prat." Merlin paused. "I'm Merlin. Princess Merlin."

Gaius raised his eyebrow. "I see. I had wondered why the arrangements for the marriage of Arthur and the princess hadn't progressed, and I find that the answer has turned up right at my door."

He sat down on the bed beside her. "I'm assuming if you were to lift your shirt off of your back, certain areas would still be covered and I would be able to tend to your scrapes?" Merlin complied, and as he began to clean the cuts there was a brief lull of silence.

"Do you parents know of this, that you have been able to move things with your mind before you could talk?" Merlin shook her head. He continued, "It would be surprising if they did know and they still went forward with the arrangements for marriage. Uther is relentless in his execution of magic. I do not think being royalty would be any guarantee if you were caught using enchantments. I can understand your reluctance to agree to the match."

"I know. But as I was in Ealdor, disguised as Hunith's second son, I began to wonder if perhaps Arthur would be the kind of man who I could trust with this secret. But he's completely arrogant and self-entitled." Gaius worked in silence for a bit.

"You don't know why I was born like this do you?" She asked.

"No."

"I'm not a monster am I?" She had never confessed this so baldly before. Hunith had always assured her that she was special, but Gauis' shock at how different she was, his astonishment at her abilities, reminded her again of the weight of being dissimilar to everyone she knew.

"Don't ever think that." Gaius was firm, but kind. Merlin smiled sadly.

"Then why am I like this? Please, I need to know why."

"Perhaps there is someone with more knowledge than me."

"If you can't help me, then no one can."

Gaius eventually left Merlin with some medicine. She took it and brooded, realizing she had been hoping so much that Gaius would have answers, that he would be the mentor in magic that she had never had. He said perhaps someone would know more, but how did one go about finding such a person?

No doubt it was this chain of thoughts that encouraged Merlin to once more throw caution to the wind and seek out that mysterious voice when she heard it again that evening. With a flash of her eyes, she easily slipped past the guards, and found herself wandering deeper and deeper into the castle's belly.

She found herself in a huge cavern. But there was no one there.

Until there suddenly was a large dragon; clearly this was the dragon that Gaius had mentioned the day before.

When the dragon said that she had a destiny, a reason for her magic, she felt hopeful again. This could be her chance to no longer be so in the dark.

"Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion."

"Right." Not exactly what she was looking for in terms of answers for her magic.

"But he faces many threats from friend and foe alike."

"I don't see what this has to do with me."

"Everything," the dragon stated. "Without you Arthur will never succeed. Without you there will be no Albion." The dragon's answers sounded distinctly like the same sort of rhetoric that her parents had used to try to persuade her to agree to marriage to the blond.

"No. NO. You've got this wrong." Arthur's life could not be the reason behind the gift and the burden of her secret. He had nothing to do with her.

"There is no right and wrong, there is only what is and what isn't."

"No, if any one wants to kill him, they can go right ahead. In fact I'll give them a hand."

"No one can escape their destiny," the dragon laughed.

"Then perhaps there is another Arthur, because this one is an idiot." Merlin spoke with the conviction that the two confrontations had revealed his true character.

"Then perhaps it's your destiny to change that." And with those enigmatical words, Merlin was left alone, pondering whether it was possible to change the prideful prince, and wondering how she would even get the chance without first marrying him, something she was distinctly unwilling to do.

Arthur seemed to be on the mind of more than one person, because the first thing she heard when she knocked on the Lady Morgana's door with medicine from Gaius were these words:

"You know, I've been thinking about Arthur. I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole." Merlin couldn't agree more. She had temporarily forgotten that she wasn't a girl, and that it wasn't exactly proper for her to be in the room while Morgana was behind her dressing screen. But she remembered when Morgana asked her to pass her her dress.

"I think that you have me confused for someone else, my lady. I'm Myrddin, Gaius' ward. He asked me to deliver your medicine." Morgana poked her head around the screen. There was a very awkward pause. Merlin smiled sheepishly and went to back out. Fortunately Gwen arrived, gave her a weird look, and Merlin beat a hasty exit, for once not having to fake the clumsiness.

* * *

It was weird to be at a royal feast and not be the guest of honor. Gaius had to gently remind her that she was there to work. A royal court was completely different to observe when one wasn't part of it. Shortly after she arrived, Morgana made as ostentatious an entrance as possible. Gwen followed soon after, sidling up next to Myrddin. Merlin was so busy smirking at the stunned face of the normally overly self-confident and self-possessed Arthur when he saw Morgana, she almost didn't catch Gwen's comment.

"Some people are just born to be queen."

"No," Merlin said, slightly sarcastically. Enigmatic dragons be damned, if Morgana wanted to marry Arthur then clearly it wasn't Merlin's destiny after all. Morgana was welcome to him. She felt relieved, but surprised. She'd have thought Arthur and Morgana would have a more brother/sister relationship, having grown up together. She'd grown up with Will, basically sharing a parent, and she couldn't imagine marrying him, and he was a very nice boy, not at all arrogant like his royal highness.

"I hope so. One day. Not that I'd want to be her. Who'd want to marry Arthur?" Gwen continued. Merlin smiled. She had thought at the stocks that Gwen would be a good friend, but she was even more convinced now.

"Come on Gwen I thought you liked those rough, tough, save-the-world kind of men," Merlin couldn't help teasing.

"No, I like much more ordinary men like you." Merlin laughed. It was just too funny.

"Believe me Gwen, I am not an ordinary man." The comment was made in complete earnestness.

"I mean, not you, obviously, but more ordinary men, like you." Clearly, the boy disguise was continuing to hold up. She decided to no longer point fun at Gwen's expense.

"Thanks."

* * *

Shortly thereafter, while Merlin was still trying to figure out precisely what she was meant to be doing at the feast, Uther welcomed Lady Helen, who then began to sing. Merlin was entranced. She really did have a beautiful voice. Despite the words being in a foreign language, they seemed to connect something deep within her. It wasn't until Merlin noticed everyone who was sleeping, that she realized with a start that it must be magic; magic that was reacting to the presence of her own, keeping her awake. She clapped her hands over her ears anyway.

Those at the feast were all already deeply asleep, cobwebs slowly growing over them. Merlin saw that Lady Helen, if it was in fact the real Lady Helen, was slowly advancing towards the high table, her gaze on Arthur. As she reached in her sleeve for a dagger, Merlin glanced around for a way to stop it. So it was with a flash of eyes, the chandelier fell on top of the woman. And with another flash time slowed down enough for her to pull Arthur safely out of the trajectory of the witch's desperately thrown dagger. With a painful thump, both of them landing heavily on the stone floor.

Like all her magic, like when she saved Gaius, she had reacted instinctively. It seemed the dragon had been right about the dangers to Arthur. It was galling to be forced to concede that her magic had indeed helped save his life. But despite all the dragon's hints that she was supposed to save the prince, she was as shocked as everyone else when Uther named her Arthur's manservant.

Arthur's was not the only indignant cry.

* * *

All in all it was a twist ending to the day. When Merlin had conspired with Will to make it to Camelot, she had justified it by planning on meeting Arthur, seeing if he was the type of man she would even want to marry. But in arriving in the land as a commoner, she had not actually anticipated being in daily contact with him. After seeing his arrogance first hand, she didn't want to be.

But the dragon's parting words, that maybe she was supposed to change the idiot, coupled with her impulsive rescue, made her wonder if she should take the position as his manservant. She would still stand up to his presumptuous behavior. What could be the worst that could happen? He fire her for being honest? She wasn't actually looking for job security; she would doubtless be summoned from exile within a few months, and subjected to another round of lectures on duty and matrimony.

Despite her indignation at Gaius classifying her brilliant use of subterfuge in the magic versus mace fight as "idiotic pranks", Merlin knew her use of magic so often was just that-nothing more than a paltry, private, party trick. Unable to use magic openly, she had rarely had the opportunity to do anything more meaningful. Saving someone's life-even the life of someone she personally disliked-with her gift was something she wanted to repeat. Sure Camelot was dangerous to be practicing magic in, but in disguise as a servant, she would be in a position to protect Arthur, as the dragon intimated he would need.

Gaius came in greeting her as a hero, unwittingly echoing her own reflections about the purpose of her magic. She was touched by his gift of a spell book. The purge had not eradicated all traces of magic in the library of her home castle, but she had only every been able to sneak glances at the tomes that remained, with no one to answer questions, or indeed any real use for her knowledge.

All in all, she liked Camelot. She already respected Gaius, and she felt she had found the makings of a true friend in Gwen. And perhaps Arthur was a better person on a one to one basis, without a body guard of jeering noblemen egging him on.

"Gaius, I can see the advantages of working for Arthur; having a job, getting to know him better, saving his life…but do you think it would be wrong of me to be his manservant seeing as I'm, well, you know?" Merlin almost hesitatingly posed the question.

Gaius considered that for a moment. While Merlin was neither servant nor man, Gaius thought she would be able to fulfill any tasks Arthur could set her. Frankly, he thought it would be beneficial to any ruler to see how their castle was run. Though he knew Merlin to be dead set against the match, he privately thought that Arthur and Merlin could quite possibly be a very good pair. Though Merlin's antics in the marketplace were rather daft considering who she was pretending to be, Arthur would benefit from a wife who was unabashed in standing up for what she thought was right. And though Merlin only saw a royal ass in Arthur, Gaius had known Arthur all his life, tending to many a wound and often answering questions for a youthful prince. Beneath his condescension and pride, Gaius believed he had a good heart and that he wanted to be a good king. This could be a chance for Myrrdin to meet that side of the prince.

"I think perhaps if you are his manservant that you might find that maybe there is more to Arthur than you think." And with that vague pronouncement Gaius left her alone for the night.

* * *

_In Which There is a Closing Author's Note: When I first started writing this story, I typed up all the episode titles and then, in one massive brain-storming session, typed out a summary of what I projected would happen in my story, based on what I remembered about the actual episode, my primary impression of that episode, and what I thought would change in my royal, female Merlin retelling of the episode. These short little summaries were the original chapter titles, and my inner sarcastic imp was unleashed to do its worst. Later, as I've gone through and actually written the story, I have reined in much of the sarcasm, seeing as my work is not a parody, despite the times the impulse to poke fun could not be restrained._

_I actually like quite a few of these chapter titles, which so often are brief loving parodies of the series, and was torn between using them and using the more reasonable chapter titles I created. And so I compromised with myself: whenever I have come up with a tamer real chapter heading, I will include the more verbose, more mocking, alternate title here, at the bottom._

_The original story name is actually: In Which Merlin Is Rewritten as a Female Character and the Author Makes Even More Changes to the Arthurian Legend, Though She Compensates by Throwing in Clever Allusions to the Originals_

_And this chapter was at one point called: In Which Fate Pulls Together Two Protesting Royals and Tells Them They are Destined to be Together Often Enough That One of Them Starts to Believe It_


	2. In Which Merlin Contemplates Some Unfort

In Which There is a Disclaimer: This author does not own _Merlin_, especially the episode this chapter is based off of (Season 1 Episode 2 "Valient").  


In Which the Author Makes a Note: After writing much of the future story, I have decided to re-edit what I have already posted. There are no really substantial differences, but it is slightly different than the original posting.

* * *

**Chapter Two: In Which Merlin Contemplates Some Unfortunate Truths About Manservants**

* * *

Merlin had been Arthur's servant for five days when she found herself out on the training grounds of the castle being systematically beaten with the broad side of Arthur's sword. Her childhood desire to go train to be a knight with her brothers was no longer even a fond memory by the fifth time Arthur's blade tapped her helmet.

"Body! Shield! Head!"

Arthur seemed determined to test her in every area, almost as if to prove how ill befitting the position she was. Some of these tests went better than others. The previous manservant of the prince, grateful to Merlin for standing up for him, and happy to be moved to serving a less demanding courtier, had given her a basic rundown of the palace. He had shown the best routes, and instructed Merlin in things such as what time to wake Arthur and what he liked for each meal. For other tasks, the friendship she had already struck up with Gwen proved a blessing. But despite the tips, there were some things that a princess had never had to do. Her training in embroidery helped with regard to anything with clothes, but when it came to scrubbing and polishing she was terribly inefficient.

Arthur soon realized that Myrddin didn't really have a clue at what precisely was required of a manservant. Using this to his advantage, he had started assigning increasingly ridiculous extraneous chores. But once he assigned Merlin to muck out the stables when she arrived late to work the third day, she realized his tactics. Merlin may not know everything required to serve a prince, but she had grown up in a palace, and even she knew that it was the stable hands who mucked out the stalls. She only even attempted it once. The other stable boys had laughed at her inept efforts. After that, she cultivated the friendship of a boy named Bert, and with an agreement to compensate with extra food if he helped out any extra time Arthur assigned the chore, Merlin avoided the smelly indignity.

Of course, Merlin had her victories. When Arthur had shoved a piece of parchment at her, condescendingly demanding she prove that she was literate, she had recognized the passage the speech was from, and provided the next sentences in Latin from memory. She further annoyed the prince by refusing to give more than nebulous hints about where she had learned it. He was now under the vague impression that farming villages in Cenrid's lands were filled with people who walked around quoting Cicero.

Furthermore, Merlin felt the ability to easily annoy the prat when he first woke up was a great coup. The first morning she had had a goblet chucked at her head, she had thought it might be prudent to be polite until he had eaten. But when two days of being almost painfully humble had not decreased the number of projectiles thrown her way, Merlin decided to be as loud and as cheerily obnoxious in waking him up as possible. She had already started to hone her skill in ducking.

But at the moment, her victories thus far felt rather hollow. Arthur had apparently decided that one of her duties was that of playing practice dummy in preparation of the upcoming tournament.

"Come on Myrddin, you aren't even trying! To the left! Head!" came Arthur's yells. When she finally collapsed, he gave her the dubious praise that "he was braver than he looked". She groaned when he asked about her mace work. Having bested her in the fight at the marketplace, he knew that. And maces weren't even wielded in this tournament. Wearily getting to her feet, Merlin concluded fate was cruel. Though Gaius had assured her that this experience might be "fun", Merlin was unsure where getting beat to a pulp and mucking out stables fit in the grand scheme of "fun".

The day before the tournament, Merlin realized that she was expected to help Arthur dress in his armor. In a panic, Merlin had rushed to Guinevere, who as the daughter of a blacksmith actually knew the uses of each piece and how she was to put it on. She felt pretty confident about what she had learned, until the next morning that is. Arthur scowled at her supposed incompetence. Merlin may have been the tiniest bit slow in fitting the pieces on the knight, but Arthur's impatience was partly to blame. She was sure that given a few more minutes she would have remembered to hand him his sword. No need for him to be rude. As he stomped off in annoyance, she tried to decide whether it was arrogance or nerves that made him so snappish.

The tournament was larger than any she had seen in Powys. She was impressed by Arthur's skill, though she was relieved she wasn't forced to sit in the stands the entire time and watch. There was nothing particularly new or interesting about the tournament and it wasn't until she was in the armory getting Arthur's equipment, when she heard a hissing noise among the shields, that she found anything about the affair capturing her attention. Before she could properly investigate, she was interrupted by Knight Valiant. What with the mysterious hissing noise, Valiant's sudden appearance, and his hostile behavior she was mindful to keep an eye on him as long as he was in Camelot.

* * *

Though it was horrible that the knight, Ewan, was found injured with a suspicious snake bite after facing Valiant, Merlin seized the adventure, deciding to indulge in what turned out to be some justified snooping. She finally tracked down the snake shield in Valiant's chambers, witnessing its magical properties. She went to tell Gaius.

Gaius was not so eager for her to run off and tell Arthur, asking if she was positive it was magic.

"I know magic when I see it!" Merlin exclaimed indignantly.

"Perhaps, but do you have any proof?" Gaius asked in a reasonable tone.

"Don't you believe me?"

"I fear you'll land yourself in trouble. How will you explain why you were in Valiant's chambers?"

"What does that matter? He's using magic to cheat in the tournament!"

"But you can't go accusing a knight of using magic without proof. The king would never accept the word of a servant over the word of a knight," Gaius pointed out. He was surprised that he had to remind Merlin; after all, she had grown up in a castle and knew these things.

"So what I say doesn't matter!"

"I'm afraid it counts for very little. That's the way it is," Gaius said gently. "Merlin, you have only been in Camelot for a week, and you do not have the status that your blood normally gives you. I believe that you can do much good as Arthur's manservant, and perhaps you will come to see him as a worthy alliance for Powys. But more than the good that you can do, I think that this is an important opportunity for you to learn some things about court that may not be obvious to one who has always been a part of it. You are young, and have yet to see much of the world. There is an order of things, for good or ill, and as Myrddin, you cannot accuse a knight without proof."

Merlin pondered this for the rest of the day. Though she had always thought herself to be a kind mistress, she had never thought much about her ability to always be listened to by the king. Being a servant was certainly enlightening. She reflected back to her confrontation in the armory with Valiant. The dishonorable knight may simply be a cheat. But what if he were even less noble? If he had known she was a girl, but not a princess, and had caught her snooping, what would the result have been? And without revealing herself, would she have been able to speak up?

* * *

The next day, when Gaius suggested that all they needed was a way to cure Ewan, allowing a knight to accuse another knight, Merlin immediately went out, and ended up chopping off the snake head. Gaius got enough venom to make an antidote and Merlin ran off with the decapitated bit, eager to get a second knight's support.

As Merlin raced off to tell Arthur, she wondered if this was going to become a habit; she would find out someone using magic in a nefarious plot, she would get to proof to convince Arthur, and then he could use his rank to subvert the plot. That is, if he believed her.

"I know I'm just a servant, and my word doesn't count for anything," Merlin glibly repeated the true but irksome words of Gaius, "but I wouldn't lie to you." Merlin felt keenly the double edge of that statement, mentally adding 'about anything other than the two things I'm lying to you about'. Despite the deception she lived and the half-truths she had used all her life, she was by nature a generally honest person. She felt guilty at Arthur's response.

"I want you to swear to me that what you're telling me is true." Merlin gazed at Arthur in surprise. In this moment there was none of the worthless pride or childish taunts that had dominated her first impressions of him. Despite his faults, Arthur clearly valued the honor of knighthood. He was expecting the same honor from Myrddin. As Merlin murmured, "I swear it's true," she wondered if Arthur would forgive her if he ever found out her two constant lies.

He looked her in the eyes and said, "Then I believe you." Under the intensity of the moment and the light it showed Arthur, she knew that if he knew all along she had been lying, their marriage would be seriously threatened. She mentally shook her head. Arthur wasn't going to find out because she wasn't going to marry him, impressive chivalry notwithstanding. All she would ever be to Arthur was a servant.

But though she convinced Arthur that the snake head was foreign to Camelot, Ewan's sudden death meant she could not accuse him, and that Arthur still had to fight.

Furthermore, Arthur was furious with her.

For someone she had declared an ass only a week ago, she now was strangely hurt that he sacked her, dismissing her so abruptly from his sight.

* * *

Merlin ended up going to see the dragon. Or rather the caves that held the dragon, since he didn't appear, even as she yelled out that the dragon had been wrong.

"Whatever you think my destiny is, whatever it is you think I'm supposed to do, you've got the wrong person." Her voice echoed in the cavern. "That's it. Goodbye."

"If only it were so easy to escape one's destiny," the dragon said as he finally landed in front of Merlin.

"How can it be my destiny to protect someone who hates me?" Merlin asked.

"A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole." Merlin felt once more that the dragon was secretly a match maker. The thought almost made her laugh. "Very soon you shall learn that," the dragon continued.

Great, another riddle. Merlin was beginning to wonder why she had sought him out.

"That you and Arthur's path lies together is but the truth," the dragon continued. Merlin glared at the dragon.

"You know young witch, this is not the ending; it is the beginning." The dragon flew off, leaving Merlin frustrated at the lack of straightforward sentences.

* * *

With Gwen's encouragement that fired or not Myrddin could still do something, Merlin tried to find a spell which would force the snakes to emerge in Uther's presence, proving the claims Arthur had made to the king about Valiant's shield were valid. Failing that, she tried to get Arthur to withdraw. Failing that, she concluded that men were idiots, and went back to her room and the stubbornly still stone dog.

* * *

It was Merlin's second feast in Camelot, following Arthur's victory over Valiant. She had succeeded in enchanting the snakes on Valiant's shield so that they emerged from the shield when their magical nature would be obvious to all. Uther had been shocked at the treachery of the knight, and Arthur had destroyed both shield and opponent. But even this victory hadn't given her her job back. Thus, she felt strangely anonymous at the banquet. Last feast she was savoring the feeling of being unrecognized by the court. This time she was contemplating the fact that she was once again simply Gaius' ward. She didn't really have a place in Camelot. As she looked around, she idly noted that Morgana and Arthur seemed to once again be having what she would term a sibling squabble. While she dishing up some food, Arthur came up next to her, with an air of nonchalance that made her certain he wasn't going to apologize.

"Can you believe Morgana? She says she saved me. Like I needed any help." Merlin just stared at him. There was a pause.

"I wanted to say, I made a mistake. It was unfair to sack you." Well, that was quite a confession, for him, Merlin thought.

"Well, don't worry about it. You can buy me a drink and we'll call it even." She grinned at him. Arthur kept her so busy that she hadn't had the chance to visit the Rising Sun yet. This would work out perfectly. And it would be a nice bit of triumph to go to a tavern with the man her parents wanted her to marry.

"I can't really be seen to be buying drinks for my servant," Arthur said.

"Your servant? You sacked me!"

"And now I'm rehiring you. My chambers are a complete mess, my clothes need washing, my armor needs repairing, my boots need cleaning, my dogs need exercising, my fireplace needs sweeping, my bed needs changing, and someone needs to muck out my stables." Noting to herself that half of those chores had designated servants for the tasks, Merlin smiled at the plate in her hand. It seemed she still had a place in Camelot after all. She'd just have to get that drink later.

* * *

Merlin returned to her duties as manservant with a confidence that marked her as a, well perhaps not really experienced servant, but at least a thoroughly initiated one. She greeted the prince cheekily, dodged the thrown goblet, and went about straightening the room. Looking back, she was amazed that the painfully embarrassing event hadn't happened sooner.

Her first week, Merlin had coped with the indignity of cleaning out the chamber pot and the humiliation of being a practice dummy in front of the field of knights. She had endured the smell from her first time mucking out the stables, and she had dealt with the time her clumsiness sent buckets of bath water down the stairs with her. In short, she was confident she was prepared for anything Arthur threw at her, and she even meant that literally.

Having just finished preparing the bath, Merlin called out to the prat that it was ready, and made to go. Turning back to grab the pile of laundry to drop off with the laundrymaids, Merlin blushed at a totally nude Arthur that had just walked out from his dressing screen.

Merlin had had her own maids, and she was aware of the lack of modesty that frequently existed between masters and their personal servants. She just hadn't really registered it in this case. Arthur gave her a strange look at her frozen state and mortified face.

"Really _Myr_ddin, don't be such a girl," Arthur insulted, calmly stepping into the bath. Stammering something mostly unintelligible about being new to the post and arrogant asses who pranced around naked, Merlin fled Arthur's presence.

If only he knew.

* * *

_In Which the Author Reveals the Alternate Episode Title (and Reminds People That the Review Function is an Option, If the Reader is So Inclined): In Which Job Training is Undergone and the Newest Camelot Employee Contemplates the Thankless Job of Manservant_


	3. In Which Sophia the Sidhe Sets the Subje

**_In Which there is a Disclaimer: I do not of course own Merlin, and any recognizable dialogue comes from Season 1 Episode 7 "The Gates of Avalon" or Season 3 Episode 6 "The Changling", which have been combined for a reason that the title, this chapter, and following chapters should hopefully clearly reveal._**

In Which the Author Warns that this chapter is somewhat different from originally posted, hopefully an improvement.

* * *

**Chapter Three: In Which Sophia the Sidhe Sets the Subject on Marriage for the Next Several Sections and Merlin Concludes that as a Magical Species the Sidhe Need to Coordinate Who is Doing What Nefarious Scheme to Whom, So that there is No Overlap in Underhanded Schemes**

* * *

Camelot was ensconced in official preparations for the state visit of Gawant. Lord Godwin had long been a friend of Uther, but had not visited the kingdom in some time. There was especial excitement among the court, because this time Godwin was bringing the princess Elena.

Desperate to get away from the court, and Uther's raptures on the wonder that was Elena, Arthur had grabbed Myrddin, insisting now was the perfect time for a hunt. It was not the first occasion that Arthur had gone on a hunt with the boy, though as Myrddin bumped into him, moments before he could shoot a deer, the prince wondered why he had chosen him for the task once again. Myrddin was carrying some game, which Arthur considered himself lucky to have shot at all; between Myrddin's complaints about pointlessly killing harmless creatures and dropping everything, their stealth factor was seriously minimized.

But, as Arthur reflected as they trudged along, it wasn't really the hunt that was the point, though shooting things was always good fun. It was getting away from Uther and his reoccurring matrimonial schemes.

"Do you know what my father said to me today?" Arthur raged to Myrddin. "That's she's strategic! And that Lord Godwin finds me strategic!" He saw Myrddin trying to hide a smirk. Arthur turned away. He reflected on the rest of the conversation with the king. Arthur didn't want a witty, beautiful, strategic wife. He didn't want a wife.

Not long after, he spotted a deer, only to by interrupted, yet again, by Myrrdin. He was just starting to yell at the servant when a girlish scream was heard and Arthur ran towards it. He jumped in the fight, and only after the last standing bandit had run away did he focus on the girl and her father. He looked into the girl's eyes. All thoughts on never marrying faded. He was entranced.

* * *

Myrddin hadn't been in service to Arthur long before she was introduced to yet another duty as a manservant: the noble art of the hunt. Quite frankly Merlin had never seen the appeal of the activity as a princess and her opinion was not improved by having to haul things around for Arthur. However, she found enormous fun at snapping twigs and bumping into Arthur at periodic intervals, interceding before he could shoot some poor deer or other woodland creature. In the endless quest to annoy the arrogant crown prince, Merlin felt that her efforts at making a particular hunting feat rather futile were all for the greater good of the prince's ego. Arthur just thought it was a symptom of Myrddin's incredible uselessness.

It was on one such hunting excursion, shortly after a not so accidental bump into the prince (prompted by yet another true but repetitive rant from Arthur about the evils of marriage and political alliance) that the screams of Sophia and Aulfric of Tir-mor were heard. Ever the gallant knight, Arthur rushed to the rescue. By the time the group had made it back to Camelot, it had become apparent to Merlin that Arthur had a crush. Despite the preparations for the upcoming visit, King Uther took pity on the pair, allowing them to receive refuge in the citadel for a few days. Merlin took delight in teasing Arthur about how close to his rooms the mysterious Sophia should be settled. Happy that the goading had been successful, Merlin saw that the visitors were comfortable, and grinned at a good day's work. She had just started to set off for other duties when she caught sight of Morgana, who was staring fixedly at the spot where Sophia had been only moments earlier.

In the three months Merlin had been in Camelot, she had gradually become better acquainted with the king's ward. At first it was the mutual friendship with Gwen that instigated any interactions, but with Gaius frequently utilizing her skills as a delivery boy, Merlin had regularly seen the lady to deliver her nightmare medicine. In their short little conversations, they bonded over making disparaging remarks on Arthur and court life. Morgana had been pleased that someone else was uncowed enough to insult Arthur's ego, as well as having little respect for some of the more inane courtly rituals. Thus by this point in Merlin's stay, they had become casual friends, at least friendly acquaintances, in their own right.

"Who is that?" Morgana asked.

"Sophia Tir-mor. Arthur and I rescued her in the woods. Well, Arthur did most of the rescuing," Merlin said with her easy grin.

"She can't stay here." Merlin looked at her in confusion.

"The king said both she and her father were welcome in Camelot. Is everything okay?" Merlin asked thinking that Morgana was concerned about having both Sophia and Elena in Camelot.

Morgana seemed to be contemplating what she could tell Arthur's manservant. Apparently the need to confide won.

"I had another dream," she said. After delivering the nightmare medicine for two weeks, Merlin had finally confronted Gaius about the dreams. Gaius confessed he thought Morgana might be a seer. Merlin recalled the conversation she had had with Gaius about seer magic.

"It's said to be an innate ability," Gaius had said. "Those who have it are born that way. Some aren't even aware that what they see is the future. It comes to them in their dreams. I've been watching Morgana since she was very young. And though I tried to persuade myself otherwise, I realized that some of the things she said she'd dreamt came to pass. I kept it secret from Uther, of course. The gift of prophecy is too close to the work of magic." Merlin had considered that.

"You think Morgana is a seer?"

Gaius' response had given Merlin much food for thought. "I don't think it. I fear it." The feeling of kinship with the older girl increased. She had already noted their similarities of lone female of that high of rank in the court, authoritative father figure and annoying brother to boot, but this was beyond anything she'd realized. Merlin kept her own silence over the confusion of magic, and by that understood the girl's loneliness even better. But Merlin promised Gaius she would say nothing of magic to the girl. It was too dangerous. So instead of comforting her as she knew she could, when Morgana said she had another dream, Merlin merely responded with a neutral, "I see."

"I saw Arthur lying underwater drowning. And there was a woman standing over him, watching him die, and she's here, in Camelot." The fear in Morgana's voice was palpable. Keenly aware of her promise, and that she couldn't be seen to be knowledgeable about magic anyway, Merlin tried to respond the way she thought Gaius might.

"The mind plays tricks and borrows from everyday life, creating fantasies…" It didn't sound very convincing. Oh why couldn't she lie very well?

"I had this dream before she came to Camelot. I dreamed this last night, but I had never seen her until only moments ago," Morgana insisted.

"You must be mistaken."

"It was so real, so vivid. I saw him die." Morgana's voice had a haunting quality, as if she were reliving the scene. "She's going to kill him," she said, looking into Merlin's eyes.

"I'll keep an eye on him for you," Merlin said. It was the only reassurance she could give.

* * *

But it turned out to be easier said than done when it came to keeping Arthur away from Sophia. Merlin had thought her job would be fairly effortless, what with the Gawant delegation due to arrive the next day and Arthur having his hands full of duties.

But not even the promise of the fair Elena seemed to compete with Sophia's charms. Normally Merlin had little use for such a female, the helpless, simpering kind, but Arthur's expression was just so dopely crushlike that she hesitated for a crucial second. And with that Arthur made his escape.

Uther was not pleased to find out that his son had fun off to the woods and Merlin had the joy of experiencing the renowned displeasure of King Uther first hand.

* * *

After a day in the stocks (which were not nearly so amusing on repeat visits) Merlin returned to Gaius' chambers, relating everything from the dream to Arthur's running off with Sophia. Gaius was concerned and promised to see what he could learn about the mysterious father and daughter. Merlin herself barely had a moment to wipe vegetable seeds off of her clothes before she had to rush to attend to Arthur's dinner.

But that evening Arthur hardly paid attention to Myrddin's chatter about her time in the village. Myrddin was setting out his dinner, complaining that he had had potatoes thrown at him whilst in the stocks. "It's only supposed to be rotten fruit!" she had cried indignantly. When Arthur failed to respond, the servant asked bluntly,

"What is it Arthur? You seem troubled." Arthur looked at her.

"My father is displeased with my disappearance. I hardly know what I was thinking myself. There is more than enough that is needed to be done with Gawant's visit." At Arthur's confusion, Merlin found her own alarm increased. If Arthur acknowledged the strangeness of the situation, then it gave credence to Morgana's fears that something was off. But Arthur was continuing in his musings.

"Father told me that if I am so desperate to chase after girls, I can devote my attentions to Princess Elena." And perhaps both prince and princess had become too inundated with matrimonial rhetoric because they both winced at that. Arthur began to complain that he was certain to not have anything in common with Elena, and at that, Merlin, whose patience was already strained with her desire to figure out what precisely was going on with Sophia, decided to forestall Arthur's repetitions.

Merlin had never made the acquaintance of the other princess, the only adjectives applied to her the same descriptors used of every other noble lady; pretty, charming, witty, graceful. But she did recall an interesting detail about Elena's childhood.

"Did not the lady's mother die when Elena was born?" Thus cut off of his self-absorption, Arthur finally paid some attention to the servant. "You might have more in common than you think. You don't have to marry her, but perhaps she is someone you can relate with. A friend." The conversation was turning too serious. "Especially since you always say that you can never befriend a servant like me." Grinning cheekily at the hurled napkin, Merlin left the prince to his thoughts. If she could only figure out what Sophia was up to...

Merlin didn't find Sophia, but she did catch sight of Aulfric, sneaking out of the castle, mysterious staff in hand.

After some time tracking Aulfric through the woods they arrived at a lake Merlin had not yet encountered in her time in Camelot. She was surprised that she hadn't known of it, as it was not that far from the actual castle. When Aulfric called to the magical beings who appeared at the lake, Merlin began to wonder if it was the sort of place you could only be led to, not one you could stumble upon. The lake was beautiful, and the magical beings that flew above it in an entrancing dance intrigued her. She slowed down time enough to be able to see them better, noting the features of the creature in red who spoke with Aulfric. She didn't know much about Avalon, but she was horrified at the callousness with which Arthur's soul was bartered for immortality. Merlin raced back to tell Gaius what she had found.

* * *

When Merlin had related all of the mysterious circumstances, Morgana's fears, and Arthur's uncharacteristic shirking of duties, Gaius had become concerned enough that he went to snoop around the visitors' chambers. Sophia had come in unexpectedly, and Gaius had thought, for a moment that her eyes had flashed red. Before she had come in, he had taken note of the strange script that curled under the blue orb on the staff. Making his way back to his books, he had begun looking up possible explanations.

By the time his ward had returned, he had narrowed down his list enough that Merlin's tales of the magical lake and its flying blue guardians confirmed that they must be dealing with the ruthless race known as the Sidhe.

With a perhaps unjustifiable confidence that she would be able to dispatch the magical threat with the same ease that she had eventually managed to get rid of Valiant and the enchantress that killed Lady Helen, Merlin listened, enthralled, to Gaius' description of the elusive Avalon and the creatures that guarded it. She contentedly felt that she had learned a lot of rather interesting things since being banished, certainly more interesting than waiting to get married in Powys. She was so overjoyed at her own conviction of usefulness that she didn't even complain when Gaius assigned her to read the in depth tome on the Sidhe so that she would be better prepared to thwart them. Some of the reading had mixed opinions on the blue people, but she did learn that though there were some accounts of their kindness, their ruthlessness most showed when their plans were thwarted. Many people who had seen them were never seen again. Merlin snorted, that piece of information wasn't really that surprising if they bargained people's souls for immortality. Nevertheless, she kept reading.

* * *

A good night's sleep seemed to have washed away Arthur's last befuddlement and so he stood on the dais with Uther and Morgana to welcome Lord Godwin. Arthur smiled at Godwin, who he remembered as an amiable man, but the real question was of course Elena, and whether she was as his father had spoken of her.

Arthur's first fleeting impression of Elena was of flyaway hair and a truly horrendous mustard colored gown, but this impression was soon replaced with Elena's tripping and falling. The court seemed to freeze for a moment, staring at such surprising clumsiness, but soon everyone had rallied around Elena, helping her to her feet.

Arthur was suddenly very grateful that his father seemed to deem Princess Merlin the more valuable match because he most certainly did not want to marry this girl.

As soon as he could, Arthur made his excuses and made his way to his chambers. But before he reached them content with the knowledge that Myrddin would soon be there for him to rant to, he was stopped by Sophia. Coloring slightly in remembrance of shirking his duties to be with her the day before, Arthur intended to keep the conversation short.

"Sophia! I hope that you and your father are recovering from your difficulties and will soon be able to," at this Arthur stopped as Sophia had put her hand on his cheek. Wanting to step away, Arthur made the mistake of looking into her eyes. He had a fleeting sense of red before her strange words lulled him into the same haze as before. In a trance he turned again towards the throne room, empty of all save the king, his guards, and oddly enough, Myrddin. In a bold voice he informed his father that he was going to marry Sophia directly.

* * *

Uther had watched his son growing up, noting his increasing skill in sword fights, his ability in training the knights, his increasingly confident poise in court affairs. Though he hadn't said it much to his son, he found many reasons to look forward with satisfaction at the kind of man his son was shaping up to be.

Until marriage came up. Arthur was stubborn and perhaps arrogantly resistant to any overtures of political alliance through the marriage bed. With a tenacity Uther knew had not come from Ygraine, Arthur had debated the issue.

Arthur had argued that he was too young to marry, that he hoped that there might be a chance for him to have a marriage of love, much as Uther's own had been. Uther could not deny his son that, and Cyngen had taken the hints of Arthur's reluctance with good grace, intimating that maybe later, when both their children had grown up some, the match would become a reality. In the months since, Arthur had indeed shown no inclination to settle down. But Uther's overall good opinion of his son was thrown off by his strange behavior these last few days. First with the completely irresponsible lark through the woods, now with his clear discomfort at the reality of Elena. Though he normally wouldn't feel it necessary to give this kind of directive, Uther was determined that nothing go wrong with Gawant. Summoning the prince's servant to his side, Uther was just issuing a warning of consequences far more dire than the stocks if the prince was not at the scheduled picnic tomorrow when the prince burst back into the room, Sophia in tow.

"I request an audience, Father, to discuss a matter of great importance. It cannot have escaped your attention that I and Lady Sophia Tír-mòr have grown very close."

Uther stared at his son. Something was wrong. After the lecture he had delivered earlier about this, he was surprised his son would even have Sophia in the room with him. Searching for any tell tell signs in Arthur's mannerisms, Uther uttered a noncommital response. "Not too close, I hope."

"We're in love." Uther was shocked. Arthur continued, "Which is why I come before you today to ask your permission to marry."

Uther laughed. "I assume you're joking." If knowing someone for two days was a sufficient ground for marriage for his son, then all his fuss over Princess Merlin had been nothing but a childish willfulness. He scoffed at his son's statement that they were in love. Sophia might be pretty, but he had heard that Princess Merlin was as well. Any amusement in the situation was squashed at Arthur's impertinent tone.

"I'm going to marry her. I don't care what you think about it."

"I thought you'd come to ask my permission?"

"Out of courtesy, nothing more." As Arthur grabbed Sophia's hand and turned away from him, Uther summoned the guards. "You've forgotten whose court you're standing in."

Though Arthur eventually remembered his place, after he left, Uther pondered this startling turn of events. Coupled with his shirking of duties over the day before, explained by only the flimsiest of excuses from his manservant, Uther wondered whether Arthur needed the stability and responsibility of a wife to curb this increasing stubbornness.

Uther was not entirely resigned to forfeiting the marriage with Powys, but given Arthur's sudden interest in marriage and a suitable bride having just stumbled into his court room, Uther was willing to adapt his plans. It would be a still be a tactical marriage. If Arthur required only a day or two to fall in love, then perhaps the visit would indeed be more than a meeting between longstanding friends.

* * *

Merlin was surprised when Arthur had announced his intention to marry. Only two days ago the prince had been railing, again, on the evils of matrimony, about his father's wish to marry him to a perfect stranger. It had been comforting, if not annoying, to know that Arthur felt no more eager for marriage than Merlin herself. There clearly was an enchantment at work, one stronger than Merlin had initially suspected. But when she read about how the Sidhe entranced, she hadn't realized it made them more bullheaded than ever. Catching the king's eye and his clear demand that she somehow curb the prince's foolishness, Merlin made her way to Arthur's chambers, finding that he had dressed in full armor.

"Get out."

"I thought the King was a bit harsh," she said, stepping closer.

"I don't need sympathy, Myrddin, especially not from you."

"But I did think he had a point," Merlin continued.

"I ordered you to get out. Now leave me!"

"I know what you think you're doing, and I know you think you're in love with Sophia..."

"Who are you to tell me what I'm thinking?" Arthur asked.

"I'm your friend," Merlin said. Silently she added: and your constant ally against marriage.

"No, Myrddin, you're my servant." If she had been a regular servant, and had done as much for Arthur as she had done, she knew that she would be offended by that. But having a secret identity really did wonders for one's self confidence.

"You don't know what you're doing. She's cast a spell on you. You're enchanted." Sophia entered with her father as she said this. In the ensuing argument, Merlin had thought for a moment that Arthur was fighting the Sidhe control. But then he turned around, his eyes glowing a terrifying red. Aulfric wielded his shaft, and Merlin landed roughly on the floor, unconscious.

* * *

Once the Gawant party had been grandly greeted and were on their way to being comfortably settled, Morgana made her way to her room. She noticed the strange Sophia lurking near the throne room and with the feeling of unease her dream had induced once again at the forefront of her mind, Morgana found herself pacing beside her window, overlooking the spacious courtyard below.

Her vigil was well rewarded because within half an hour of taking her post, she saw Sophia and her father leading Arthur quietly out of the city.

Morgana knew Arthur was in danger but knew Uther would not place any credence of her dream induced vision. So rushing to her old comforter and friend, Morgana burst into Gaius' quarters.

"Morgana!" the old man cried in surprise. Sensing her agitation he rose and came towards her.

"Arthur is in danger. I saw Sophia leading him out of the city. My dream, he's going to drown," she said in a rush. She worried that she was not making her point very well, but Gaius seemed to understand. Assuring her that he would send Myrddin after the trio, Morgana was able to breathe easy.

She made her way back to her room, and once again stood at the window. Myrddin did indeed run out of the castle a few minutes later. Placing her trust that the lad would once again be there when Arthur needed him, Morgana got ready for bed that evening, keeping an eye out for the return of servant and master.

* * *

After having been roused by Gaius, Merlin hardly had a moment to catch her breath before she was running through the woods, grateful that all her duties to Arthur had given her a stamina that her hours of embroidery and lessons on court manners hadn't. Of course the unrestricting nature of trousers versus dresses certainly helped her in her mad race to the lake.

When she reached the lakeside, it was with a fear that she was too late, because the arrogant knight was nowhere in sight. Recalling Morgana's fear that Arthur would drown, Merlin suspected Arthur had already been pushed underwater by Sophia. Knowing time was precious, Merlin searched for a way to defeat the two. She quietly summoned the staff abandoned on the ground, and was surprised at the ease with which she foiled the two would be murders.

As she waded into the water, she put aside the uneasiness of more deaths joining her slowly, but steadily, increasing tally. The last few magic users Merlin had dispatched had been full of revenge and greed. Merlin wondered what had made Sophia so desperate for immortality.

But Merlin had no time to think of that now. She needed to rescue the prince. Using magic to lend her strength, she was able to pull a fully armored Arthur out of the water, and slowly make her way home with him. He was out cold the entire time.

When she finally arrived back in Camelot, Gaius determined that the prince appeared fine, and together they put him to bed. Merlin recounted what had happened at the lake as they sat at the prince's bedside. Merlin hoped he didn't remember many specifics. It would be awkward to explain that Sophia and Aulfric had kind of, exploded.

"What was I thinking?" The prince sputtered when he at last woke up and the memory of his wanting to marry Sophia came to mind (or at least that is what Merlin concluded he was recalling. The face he was making was what she dubbed his 'someone wants me to get married and I don't want to' face). Deeply amused, physician and servant exchanged a conniving look.

"Well, we did wonder…especially when you eloped with her last night." Gaius made a noise of agreement.

"I did what?" Arthur yelped.

"Myrddin had to bring you back to Camelot," Gaius contributed.

"I don't recall any of this," Arthur said in confusion.

"Must have been some blow," Gaius murmured to Merlin in a loud aside.

"What blow?" Arthur said agitatedly.

"When I caught up with you, I couldn't persuade you to return. You were beyond reason, so I had to make you."

"You managed to knock me out?" Arthur's voice betrayed his skepticism at that.

"With a lump of wood," Merlin agreed cheerily.

"He only did it to bring you back safely," Gaius assured the prince.

"No one," Arthur said, pointing his finger from one to the other, "can know about this, any of it. Is that understood?"

* * *

Fortunately, Arthur was up and ready for his agreed mid-morning horseback race with Elena. After the excitement of the Sidhe plot, Merlin was happy to relax and watch Arthur's growing discomfort over the princess. As she followed the racing royals (at a much more sedate pace), she pondered on what little she had heard of Elena. Most of the descriptions had been the fairly generic attributes given about most princesses. Her clumsiness and general lack of poise had certainly not been mentioned. The servant contemplated that mustard yellow gown and grinned. Arthur, with all his ego about his own looks, married to a woman who clearly could not be fussed about them. Arthur thought that his father wanted this match, and Merlin admitted it would be a rather elegant solution to her own matrimonial troubles. And compared to Sophia, this was a much more suitable choice in bride. Merlin finally arrived at the riverside to an awkward silence.

"Shall I set up here?" she said brightly.

"Myrddin! What kept you?" In an undertone, "Do not leave me again."

"You were riding so fast, I was sure you wanted some time _alone_," Merlin said as if she had tactfully picked up on Arthur's unspoken hint. Arthur huffed as he walked away and Merlin set out the picnic, then quietly retreated out of the way, to observe. The conversation between the two principle characters was stilted but vastly entertaining, to Merlin at least. It seemed that Merlin had conjured up one of the pair's only similarities; the death of their mother.

* * *

While the prince and princesses were out picnicking, Gaius found himself making the rounds himself. Merlin had been very considerate about Gaius making the delivery rounds, taking breaks in between doing chores for Arthur to deliver the regular medicines. But it was nice to see some of the courtiers he had not seen since Myrddin's arrival.

It wasn't until part way through the day that the number of run-ins with Elena's nursemaid penetrated Gaius' conscience. He had seen her three times this morning already. Was she in need of the physician? He decided that he would wait to see if she approached him. Remembering Grunhilda's staring the evening before, Gaius sincerely hoped she would not.

* * *

Having seen in Elena a perfect opportunity to end the marriage question to Arthur entirely, Merlin had continued to take secret delight in how uncomfortable it made Arthur. Standing with Gwen several feet behind the trio of young royals at the banquet, Merlin could hardly keep a straight face at Elena's hiccuping. When Elena ate the food that had fallen down the front of her dress, even Morgana broke composure, turning to send Gwen an askance look.

At long last Gwen and Merlin were cleaning up from the feast, and able to indulge in the laughter they had been holding in. Gwen was eager to hear how the excursion by the riverside had gone.

"I had dismounted and was gathering the picnic things when I hear Arthur presenting Elena with a rose. I turn in time to see her sneeze, all over the front of his tunic. I ask where I should put the things, and Arthur strides over. He is deadly serious and orders that I am not to leave him again." Gwen was smiling. Merlin continued to recount the adventure, ending with their arrival in the courtyard. "Elena goes and gives him a hug, stooping gawkily so that her head is below her shoulders. Arthur looked appalled."

As they finished cleaning and set off to fulfill their last duties for the evening in their respective royal's chambers, they made comments about the other things they had observed at the feast.

"I saw that Elena's nurse was sitting next to a distinctly uncomfortable looking Gaius," said Gwen. "She specifically moved over to sit by him. Perhaps there will be more than one marriage out of this visit." With a final laugh the two friends parted. Court life was unexpectedly comical. Merlin was almost afraid about her inevitable return to her own court; now that she carried a bit of servant perspective with her, she may never be able to take herself seriously again.

* * *

The next night at dinner, Arthur again protested to Uther that he would not marry someone he didn't love. Morgana sat calmly eating, all too familiar with both sides of this particular argument. She was certain the diatribes would only cease when Arthur had at last married someone. Uther seemed especially determined this time, and with Elena and her father actually here at the court, Morgana thought the machinations of the king highly likely to prevail long enough for the match to occur.

The next morning, while Gwen was straitening her chambers, Morgana looked out the window at a down cast Arthur and Myrddin who were walking across the courtyard. Both seemed a bit preoccupied.

"I wouldn't want to be in Arthur's shoes," Morgana stated decisively to Guinevere.

"What do you mean?" Gwen asked from where she was making the bed.

"Forced to marry someone against his will," Morgana said, turning to her maidservant. "I know it's hard to believe, but he may not have a choice, even if it isn't what he wants. Uther has been increasingly determined to make a permanent alliance. It makes me wonder about whether I'll be the next Elena, once Arthur finally caves."

Gwen looked at her sympathetically. "I know Arthur has been really against marriage, but what about you? Do you have the same stubbornness he has in the matter?"

"I hardly know. I know as a child I sometimes entertained the idea that I would marry Arthur, but I don't really see it now. He's far too arrogant." Morgana smiled. "I don't really see anyone I would want to marry right now. But what of you, do you like anybody?" Morgana's tone held a hint of teasing.

Gwen blushed. "We've known each other too long, I can see it in your eyes, you like him don't you? Myrddin?" Morgana asked. Gwen tried to deny it, but the conversation delved into discussions of blue eyes and boys and eventually ended with a half serious conversation about which of the courtiers they knew would best suit Morgana.

* * *

Merlin later found out that Gwen's joke about Grunhilda reflected reality when she was discussing things with Gaius the next evening. Merlin had confided Grunhilda's bizarrely purple tongue and Gaius had tried to investigate in the guest chambers. At first Merlin was baffled about what Gaius was trying to tell Merlin about the Pixie while Gaius muttered about their attraction to "more distinguished gentlemen."

"She likes you?" Merlin cried when she finally caught on. "Oh that is disgusting. Imagine if she kissed you?"

"Pixies are the servants of the Sidhe. To them Elena could be very valuable. I think that Elena may be a changling,"

"Changling?"

"Inhabited by a fairy at birth. It would explain the clumsiness."

"And Elena has no idea this thing is inside of her?"

"When the time comes it will possess her entirely," Gaius said in a serious throne.

"And you think that time is now?" Merlin questioned rhetorically, her mind already reeling with the political intrigue that would expose. Briefly she wondered what that would do to Powys' alliance. She was still caught up in her own fantasies of how her diplomatically minded parents would deal with that, so she only half listened as Gaius continued to expound on why the changling theory made sense.

"The Sidhe live for more than a thousand years. They're patient people. It may be that they created this changling in the hopes that one day the houses of Godwin and Pendragon would seek an alliance through marriage. And that would give the Sidhe something they want more than anything," Gaius concluded.

"A Sidhe queen," she murmured. And here Merlin had thought that Elena would make such a nice wife for the prat. Trust another Sidhe to ruin it.

"Wait a moment. The Sidhe. As in the Sidhe who live on Lake Avalon? The ones that two days ago tried to kill Arthur?" Merlin questioned. "If they are so very patient that they planted this fairy in a princess twenty years ago, then why would they be fine with some exiled Sidhe killing the Pendragon they hoped to marry?"

Gaius met her gaze. "Perhaps they didn't really think this through."

"Or perhaps Elena merely is an extremely _spirited_ princess who doesn't care for much social conventions, not a fairy at all. If these Sidhe are as patient and ruthless as you've said they are, then surely they wouldn't let someone murder the key player days before their plan would be put in motion?"

Regardless, not being one to turn down any excuse of sleuthing, Merlin quickly agreed to spy on the supposed changling, despite her disbelief that anyone, even the diminutive and ruthless sidhe, could be that patient and still be short sighted. Accordingly, Merlin propped herself up against the wall and peered into the grate into Elena's room. Ignoring her gut instincts which told her that being caught thus snooping would be a very bad idea, Merlin remained at her unorthodox post for several minutes. And to her great surprise, Gaius was right; after eating a toad that Grunhilda had so lovingly provided (probably caught with her abnormal oral appendage), Grunhilda sprinkled some pixie dust on the girl when a blue form tried to emerge.

Merlin was so shocked she fell of her perch, and hoping to get far enough away from the scene so as to avoid detection, Merlin ran off with her news. The princess and the toad was merely the least of it.

* * *

"You were right!" Merlin said in great surprise to Gaius when she reached their quarters. And that was how Merlin found herself lumped into studying the Sidhe in greater depth than she had needed to the day before. Hours passed. She sincerely hoped this was the end of the fairies for some time, or that next time they coordinate their magical targets, at the very least.

As Merlin researched, she idly wondered why it was that Elena was hosting the changling, instead of herself. Though Gawant was an ally of Camelot, and the marriage was advantageous, since Merlin's birth the expectation had been of a union with Powys not Gawant. Surely the Sidhe would have realized that Powys had always held the stronger political pull. It wasn't until hours of research had passed, and she was mulling around everything she knew rather sluggishly, that she realized that Elena had been born before she was. Idly she wondered what it would have happened if the changling had tried to inhabit her, with all her magic. Though she had been able to access the Sidhe staff, it had felt foreign. She hadn't wanted to use it for an extensive period of time. Being in close contact for two decades would have been disastrous.

Just as Merlin had reached the point of glazed eyes, Gaius turned up what seemed a likely solution to their fairy problems, if they could figure out how to make some potion of questionable ingredients. Merlin groaned. One of the ingredients could only be found in the middle of a swamp.

* * *

Somehow, in between watching Arthur's official proposal to Elena and all of the wedding details thus entailed, Merlin found time to gather all the ingredients for the potion. She idly wondered if her mother would be proud that she was getting an amateur training in botany as she obtained one needed flower from the middle of the bog. Dirty and tired, she was almost to Gaius' chambers, where she hoped to collapse, when she came across Guinevere.

Guinevere looked from the dirty Myrddin to the flower clutched in the servant's hand.

"What are you doing, Myrddin?"

The truth came immediately to her lips, her brain a few steps behind. "I just went to get this flower for the Lady Elena." Gwen still looked at her strangely. Merlin elaborated with the first excuse that came to mind. "Gaius said it was her favorite flower, and I wanted her to have it for her wedding."

As Myrddin walked away, Gwen stared after the lad. The flower was hideous and muddy, but Gwen was impressed at the servant, taking the time to find Elena's favorite flower. Gwen had seen the boy running around on seemingly endless tasks from Gaius and Arthur and that he'd taken the time just to make the princess feel welcome. Gwen sighed. The lanky youth had certainly grown on the maidservant, but she had no idea how he felt about her.

* * *

That night Merlin woke from a satisfying sleep to a whirling noise, and had just enough coherence to slow down time enough to comprehend that she needed to move. She dived out of the bed moments before a blue bolt struck. Once she grabbed her purloined Sidhe staff, she backed out of her room. As she battled what she had rapidly realized was a small blue fairy, she again slowed down time so that she could identify this Sidhe, recognizing him to be the same elder who had conversed days ago with Aulfric. Definitely no planning skills there.

"Do you know how long you have waited for this moment?" the elder intoned as Merlin tried to aim the staff at the glowing body. "Feel the power of the might Sidhe!"

Merlin thought about making a sarcastic remark about the absurdity of either of those statements given Aulfric, but she concentrated on trying to hit the fairy.

Gaius woke up in time to see her hit several objects with the staff before she finally hit the fairy. As they both looked at the destruction around the room, Gaius shook his head.

"Perhaps next time Arthur drags you down to the training field, you can ask for some lessons in archery or knife throwing. Your aim is dismal."

* * *

That Myrddin had a strong sense of mischief should have been apparent to all within days of meeting him. While Merlin had rather kept herself under regulation when in court, the separation of person and state had seemed to open the door to all Merlin's hidden impudence, adventure lust, and sense of humor. Arthur regretted this on an almost daily basis, despite Myrddin's antics amusing him. Gwen found the clumsiness adorable, Morgana found the boldness refreshing, and Gaius generally found the energy a godsend.

But when Myrddin was in high form even Gaius was wary. And he found he was especially so now, when he was waiting for the odious Grunhilda in the crypts. In all of Gaius' years in court, the nearly thirty years he had been known for his physician skills, his cautious voice on king's council, and his long held spot as sorcery solution sorter, he had never solved magical situations the way that Merlin did. Part of this, Gaius knew, was that for twenty years he had kept to Uther's dictates that he would renounce magic. Thus Merlin's underhanded sorcery had not been a consideration. His usual modus operandi went something like 'identify magical threat, research in carefully sanctioned magical tomes, and present findings to the king'. Never had the solution been 'meet pixie in crypt under romantic pretexts and hope your teenage ward is paying enough attention to help you lock said pixie in said crypt'. But such was Merlin's latest scheme.

The situation had unfolded like this. After concluding that Elena really was hosting a changling, and having ascertained the need to feed Sidhe separating potion to the princess, the reality of Grunhilda had reemerged. At one point in time, Gaius would have gone to Uther and Godwin and pointed out the unfortunate reality of the Changling and given them the potion to administer. But as Merlin pointed out, what kind of wedding present would that be? And this way there was no reason for Uther to cry 'magic'. So Gaius had suggested Merlin distract Grunhilda while Gaius delivered a tonic. But Merlin was not confident of her ability to keep Grunhilda away from such a distinguished gentleman. Wouldn't it be better to have her be somewhere she couldn't escape from? And somehow Gaius had been led to believe it would be far better to plan a rendezvous than to report to the king's council.

Gaius sighed. He could see the grinning visage of Myrddin—he somehow doubted that grin had had much airing in the often stifling atmosphere of court and that few would recognize the grin as that of the princess—from where she was hiding. As the minutes ticked by, causing great unease in the old man as time to deal with the fairy inside of Elena was on short supply to begin with, Gaius' thoughts turned to the wedding about to happen. He had always been a rather unflappable man, but he was surprised by the hasty marriage plans. The magical events that had begun happening with increased regularity right before the princess' arrival, the assumption that she would marry Arthur and the strangely powerful magic she had had since birth struck a chord with all of the teachings of the Old Religion which Gaius may have renounced but never forgotten. He would have bet that all these things meant something. Grunhilda related complaints set aside, Gaius wasn't quite sure how he was going to deal with the rate magical beings were attacking once Merlin left Camelot. And leave it he knew she would, she was a princess and without a permanent place here she was sure to be given one elsewhere. And what would that mean for all the signs he was seeing? And if _he_ was seeing them, old renounced sorcerer that he was, what would the more magically aware surmise?

Gaius resolved that after dealing with the pixie, the fairy, and the princess, he would go tackle the enigmatic dragon. If Merlin remaining in Camelot was important, surely the dragon would know and surely the dragon would know how it would come about.

* * *

Merlin was pleased with how well her cryptic scheme had worked out. Gaius had been extremely hesitant but there was the pixie safely behind bars. Physician and servant hastily set out for the princess' chambers.

But Merlin had congratulated herself too soon. Before they reached the princess, the pixie had destroyed the gate that had held her and had come chasing after them. Merlin passed Gaius the red vial, which remarkably remained intact, and clinging to the Sidhe staff (which despite still feeling a bit foreign to her magic was easily her new favorite toy) and prepared to eliminate the odious woman as easily as she had the others who threatened Arthur.

Grunhilda's disguise seemed to have melted away in her temper, and fully Pixie now she approached Myrddin in a towering rage of, er, shortness.

To Merlin's surprise, the Sidhe servant was not nearly as easy to defeat as the three Sidhe had been. But once her overconfidence had worn off she found herself able to sort of melt, explode, something, the pixie.

Unexpectedly tired after this impromptu little battle, Merlin burst into Elena's chambers only to find that Gaius had still not managed to give the potion to Elena. Deciding that having burst into a lady's chambers, magical staff in hand, she'd already broken the law and thus there was little more point in being diplomatic, Myrddin snatched the vial and force fed it to Lady Elena. She was all prepared for some advice giving, but now fairy free, Elena seemed nothing short of ecstatic about life. It was probably just as well because Merlin realized with a start that Arthur would have been waiting for her and she had to hunt up the ceremonial sword.

It was perhaps not advisable to run with swords, but ceremonial swords were supposed to be dull, and Gwen had really been very kind about being run into. Merlin burst into the chamber where Arthur waited.

"I've brought you your ceremonial sword," she panted.

Arthur was apparently in a morbid mood. "Is that for me to fall on?"

"What's wrong?"

"You wouldn't understand, Myrddin. You have no idea what it's like to have a destiny you can't escape."

"Destinies are troublesome things," Merlin said softly. "You feel trapped, like your whole life has been planned for you, and sometimes you wonder what if what destiny decided is really the best thing after all."

"How come you're so knowledgeable?" Arthur said, having turned towards her in surprise.

"I read it in a book," Merlin deadpanned.

"And what did this book tell you? Should I marry her?" Arthur asked, taking the sword.

"That's not really my place to say."

"I'm asking you. It's your job to answer," Arthur insisted. Now that Elena no longer had a fairy inside her, Merlin was sure that she wouldn't be as bad as whatever Arthur was imagining. But with Arthur asking for her honest opinion, the frustration she had so often felt in the same position bubbled over. Besides, she felt it was her turn to express her opinion on matrimony after listening to all of Arthur's.

"I think you're mad. You're all mad. People should marry for love. Not convenience. And if Uther thinks that having an unhappy king makes for a stronger kingdom, then he's wrong. Because you may be destined to rule Camelot, but you have a choice," Merlin paused in her passionate speech. "So how do you do it?"

With that the door opened and Arthur entered the throne room, now thronging with courtiers and other witnesses for the occasion.

As Merlin watched the ceremony begin, she seriously contemplated what it would be like for Arthur to be married. She had been so busy running after pixies and potions and powerful little fairies that she hadn't actually thought about a married master. And when her parents heard of the marriage, would they summon her from exile? Prepare for her to marry some other prince? She thought of the other unmarried nobles she knew. She knew Cenrid was single, but she shuddered to think of life to that king. Would she have to leave Camelot soon and return to the confinement of Powys?

But just as Merlin's future seemed as dismal as Arthur had thought his a few moments ago when he'd asked if the sword was to fall on, Arthur interrupted Geoffrey before the hand fasting was completed.

Merlin was amazed that Arthur actually took her advice, and that he declared it so publicly. She had watched both princess and prince as they joined hands, both looking at their fathers, around the room, clearly both doing this more out of duty than any emotion. Arthur even glanced towards his manservant, as if wondering if Myrddin would have more mysterious advice from this book of destiny.

Merlin thought the prince handled the situation rather well, if perhaps a little tardily for true politeness. The unofficial alliances with Gawant would continue in the friendship of the two heirs, and both were free to seek their own true loves, at least for now.

* * *

Uther, on the other hand, was not impressed by the curtailed ceremony. While he was glad that his son had managed to avoid offending Lord Godwin, Arthur's stubbornness on this issue was quickly becoming tiresome. He even confronted Arthur about it, pointing out that until Arthur was ready to put aside feelings for duty, he would never be ready to be king.

By the time the farewell to Godwin had arrived, Uther had calmed down some. Lord Godwin had clearly been impressed with Arthur, claiming he had the makings of a good king. Uther hoped that it was true, but for now, all he saw were the makings of a willful prince. This standoff over marriage would have to end soon. But as long as Arthur did not become infatuated with any other girls in the meantime, Uther would be content to put aside the antagonistic topic for a while. He would bide his time.

* * *

"In the mysterious absence of Grunhilda, I wondered if I might be of service to you in packing," a boysish voice said to Princess Elena, from her doorway. The girl turned in surprise. The same servant boy who had brought the tonic to calm her nerves, and who had accompanied the prince and princess on their picnic stood there with a grin on his face. Elena wondered what his name was again. Martin? Mwyrdwin? Myrddin?

"Thank you, that will be helpful," Elena said and the boy cheerfully set to the task at hand.

"Have you enjoyed your time in Camelot?" he asked.

"Yes, it is a beautiful city, only," Elena paused. There was something about the boy that encouraged confidence, and she really had to tell someone. "It has been a very strange few days. I even have a strange memory that I ate a toad." The lad snorted, but hastily tried to disguise it as a cough.

"You must have been dreaming. Impending marriage does strange things to people. You should have seen Arthur just the other day," the boy stopped in his story, though Elena was rather curious. Arthur had seemed very courteous, but she was glad she wasn't married to him. The last few days had been altogether too strange for her to think about making Camelot her permanent home.

"You know, I think you are a lovely princess, and though I don't know that you and Arthur would have suited, I think that you are destined for great things. It is not commonly known, but dreaming about eating toads means that you will get married to the next prince you meet."

"Really?" Elena asked skeptically. "And what prince do you think that I will meet next?"

"Have you ever met Prince Rhodri of Powys?"

* * *

As Merlin had readied an epistle to Ealdor (Hunith and Will had initially been shocked at her new position, but after the succeeding letters full of cheerful complaints about Arthur, they'd not expressed their disapproval. Hunith had only conveyed her amusement at Merlin's profuse apologies about any difficulty the princess might inadvertently caused her nurse), she realized she really ought to write to her parents again. After some judicious disguising, Merlin related her talks with the village healer, Suiag, and the tales of the annoyingly pompous village bully whom, after casting around for a name that didn't sound like Arthur but was in a convoluted way derived from it, she gave the moniker Wart. She also included a summary of 'the ballad of the pixie and the Sidhe'. This tale of course ended with a dire warning on the dangers of arranged marriages. She had about signed it when she decided that she would go one step further, and the ridiculous, meddling idea she had blurted out to Elena made its way into ink. She innocently inquired if her parents had made the acquaintance of that good friend of Uther's, Lord Godwin. In a note directed at her favorite, most teasing, brother, she wondered if Rhodri had met the charming, and of course eminently strategic, Princess Elena.

* * *

_Reviews are always appreciated._


	4. In Which a Terrible Plague Descends Upon

**In Which Non-original Sources are Disclosed: I, as is the nature of fanfiction, do not own the BBC show Merlin. All recognizable dialogue in this chapter comes from Season One Episode 4 "The Mark of Nimueh". I got my transcription of the spells came from the Merlin Wiki.**

_In Which the Author Gives Some Moderately Interesting Notes About the Delay in Updating: My family delights in teasing me about my odd habit of reading many books out of order, frequently reading the end right after I read the beginning and skipping around randomly thereafter. It turns out I write out of order too. In the eight months since I posted I have written most of the story, yet chapters four and five continued to allude me. I'm still not completely satisfied with how this chapter has turned out, but I have decided to simply go ahead and post it and then post the other chapters which, due to this quirk of mine I've already written and which I like considerably more. Therefore, I hope that the inadequacies of this chapter don't stop anyone from reading; I'm well aware that it is not my best section, but rather than have an indefinite hiatus while I deplore chapter four, I'm just going publishing it.  
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_And on a related note, my actually writing so far ahead has forced some reworks of my original plot flow, and I accordingly re-edited the chapters I already posted. I didn't change anything too drastic, but hopefully the overall effect on the story is smoother, cleaner, and more cohesive. However, if you are pressed for time or simply dislike rereading things, it is by no means necessary to go back and reread them. _

_And one last apology: I know that there has been nothing terribly original so far, and I regret to say that this chapter and the next are more of the same. However, by the end of chapter five, I will introduce my really radical story changes. I am really excited about their overall effect on the story, and I hope that you are as well. Regardless of your opinion of the AUness my story takes, I hope to hear from you all. And without further ado..._

* * *

**Chapter Four: In Which a Terrible Plague Descends Upon Camelot, and Arthur, Due to Uther's Recent Marriage Machinations, Begins to See Romance Where It Is Not**

* * *

On the day that it had been twenty years since Uther had chained the last great dragon beneath his city and proclaimed himself victorious of all magic in his realm, Nimueh felt something shift in the status of magic. She wasn't entirely certain what, but she had long lived with the near sentience of magic, holding the privilege of a high priestess to feel the power of the Old Religion at this level, that she was able to sense that magic was pleased. She spent many hours pondering on this information, wondering what magic was foretelling. Finally she began to realize; Magic had come to Camelot. Clearly without the official recognition of the king, but back nonetheless, signalling to the exiled witch that it was time to act. After all, there was no one more fitting to the task of humbling Uther than she was. With that comforting realization, Nimueh began to plot.

Four months after that day, Nimueh made her way to an underground chamber, ready to put her plan into action. With the sort of inner excitement of embarking on a large project, the high priestess put a magic egg, which contained an Afanc, into the water. As it made its journey to the waterways beneath Camelot, Nimueh's memories made the trip to the last time she had been welcomed in the city.

Uther had once offered her the world for what he wanted, and she was one of the few with the power to grant his wish. But Uther was a traitor, and Nimueh had been repaid for granting this request by not only her own venerable personage becoming ridiculed and hunted, but also by all of her magical world being sent up in flames. But no more. Change had come to Camelot. The time for revenge was ripe, and she would make Uther suffer as she had suffered, watching her people fall helpless before an inexorable force. This Afanc promised equal devastation to the non-magical people in Uther's realm as he had two decades ago visited on magical people. And then he would face a choice. Uther would either turn to her for help in solving this plague, or he'd watch as his city fell to her power. Either way, she would be avenged.

* * *

Merlin was going with Gaius to investigate a man who had mysteriously dropped dead in the town. Despite having landed a job as a servant, and despite the fact that Merlin in reality had not turned out to by Gaius' nephew, Gaius had frequently employed Myrddin for the original task she'd come to Camelot for: being Gaius' dogsboy.

As they were hauling the mysterious blue body back to Camelot, they came across Gwen. Gwen was smiling happily, while carrying some flowers. "Someone got you flowers?" Merlin inquired with a hopeful voice. Could someone be courting Guinevere?

"Oh no. Would you like one? A purple one? Purple suits you. Not that I'm saying red doesn't suit you," Gwen said, all very rapidly. Feeling awkward, Merlin took the flower as Gwen continued. The princess had started to suspect that Gwen liked her, which Merlin didn't even know how to deal with. Setting aside the whole secret identity thing, Merlin didn't have much practice in gently letting someone know you didn't like them. Sometimes she felt that her royal education had prepared her very poorly for her future life.

But trying to be kind, Merlin stuck the flower into her neck scarf, and finished helping Gaius haul the body to his chambers. Merlin looked curiously at the blued skin. Gaius had never seen a corpse like this before, and his ignorance alarmed Merlin, especially when the physician hinted that magic might be responsible. That horrified Merlin even more. Who would use magic for such a means?

But before any headway was made in identifying the diseases origins or in the magical might and right discussion with Gaius, Arthur had come knocking at the door.

Merlin had initially been embarrassed that she had shirked her manservant duties, but as Arthur teased her about the flower from Gwen, Merlin's guilt dissipated. Besides, King Uther had summoned physician and ward for royal business. The thought excited Merlin; King Cyngen had never summoned her to the court for royal business (save all those lectures trying to get her married). Merlin hadn't known the royal physician of Powys very well. Was he also on the king's council, a trusted retainer? The longer Merlin was in Camelot, the more she wished she had been thought valuable back home. It was strange that as an insolent peasant she contributed more to the welfare of the kingdom than she ever had as a princess.

* * *

After Arthur had gone to fetch Gaius (and his recalcitrant manservant), he'd returned to the throne room, where the body of a courtier lay dead, though what had killed him was a mystery. Arthur had never seen a body like this. Gaius had though; he reported having only just secretly fetched a similar body from the lower town, and was trying to control the panic by figuring out what had caused it.

Arthur listened gravely as Gaius reported that he suspected sorcery. The prince looked again to the body. Magic had the power to do this? He had always known that magic was evil, but he had not suspected it was capable of causing deaths like this. With two bodies mysteriously dying from this, it looked like it could be a plague. He shook himself from his reverie when his father called him over.

"We must find who did this," Uther ordered. Arthur straightened. This was a serious responsibility, a responsibility more like those he would constantly undertake when named crown prince on his twenty-first birthday in a few months.

"I will, father."

Uther continued to give orders in a hushed whisper. If Arthur hadn't known his father to be unflinching in the face of magic, Arthur would almost say a note of fear had entered the king's speech. "Conduct door to door searches. Increase your presence in the town. Double the guards on all the gates. And lend the physician your servant." Arthur had been nodding along to his father's commands, seeing the sense behind them. But the last one drew him up short.

"Myrddin? But..."

"I'm going to need Gaius to find a cure. He needs all the help we can give him. If Gaius is right, believe me, this city will be wiped out. This is the kind of magic that undermines our authority, challenges all we've done. If we cannot control this plague, people will turn to magic for a cure. We have to find this sorcerer, and quickly."

As Arthur left to begin enforcing these orders, he pondered his father's last words. Would the people really turn to magic after seeing this terrible sickness it had wrought? Such an action made no sense to him. Why would you turn in supplication to the evil responsible for your destruction?

* * *

It didn't take long, as Gaius knew it wouldn't, before the private counsel he had given Uther, that the plague looked like sorcery, translated into a massive witch hunt. While Gaius was not exempt from such searches, being as he was the resident magical expert his chambers were cleared for select magical tomes and thus always received the most cursory of investigations. But that was before Gaius had taken in a full on magical pupil, and though he had as of yet not used magic again, he felt a fear he hadn't known in twenty years, a fear that someone he loved would be arrested for sorcery.

Thus it was, while Myrddin and Gaius were in the middle of scientific tests about the plague victims—Gaius explaining to his young ward everything from his basic process for illness of such magnitude up to and including answering the lass' questions about magic being neutral as a force, its goodness dependent upon the people wielding it—that the prince and guards arrived for their search. It was all going well until the prince headed for the small back chamber. When Arthur asked what was back there, and Myrddin answered, it was his room, Gaius wondered why he hadn't checked Merlin's chambers himself for anything incriminating, be it magic staffs or princess apparel.

As Arthur disappeared into the bedroom, Gaius moved closer to his ward and murmured in an undertone, "What have you done with the book I gave you?" Merlin's expression quite plainly answered the question. Gaius stiffened, imagining what Arthur would say upon discovering the spell book, and wondering if he could pass the book off as one of the sanctioned magical tones. As Gaius contemplated fatal consequences, the prince demanded Myrddin's presence, saying he had found something. Gaius waited anxiously for either royal to reappear.

But the prince exited a few minutes later without issuing an arrest, taking his guards with him. Once they were well and truly gone, physician turned and asked what the prince had discovered.

"He wanted to know if I was aware of what a cupboard did," Myrddin answered a bit impatiently. "He thought I ought to do a better job cleaning my room. As if he's one to speak. I'm the one responsible for any order in his room." Gaius gave a disapproving glance, but Merlin had apparently hatched upon some new scheme—Gaius knew the look well—and was eager for Gaius' approval.

"My book, Gaius, we must use it, cure those who are sick," she explained eagerly.

"It is not time for magic tricks. We must stick to the scientific process," Gaius reprimanded. Clearly the search had not been the same nerve-wracking experience for Myrddin as it had been for Gaius. Then again, Merlin had lived using outlawed magic all her life. But this was not Powys, she was not a princess, and even using a magical cure was strictly forbidden by Uther's law. They could not risk it.

"You can do nothing with the magic," he began but Merlin interrupted.

"That is what I always did before, nothing. All my years in Powys I was too afraid, and I never helped anyone. It was like you said, Gaius, I only used my magic for idiotic tricks, but you have showed me that I can do more. I can save people, Gaius!"

"And then what happens? You get arrested for your use of magical cures? It is one thing to help Arthur when no one is even looking around for magic. It is suicide to use it in the midst of a witch-hunt. If you want to save people, then we need to find the source of the sickness, through science," Gaius said firmly. Myrddin still looked mutinous, but did set to the tasks at hand.

* * *

Yet despite Merlin still believing that her magic should be utilized in such a time as this, she likely would have been content to do things Gaius' way if a crying Guinevere hadn't burst into Gaius' chambers, all in a panic that her father had fallen ill. Regardless of Merlin's dubious faith in the power of science against sorcery, prior to Gwen's arrival Gaius had figured out the problem was in the water. But when Gwen's father was threatened with immediate death, Merlin knew she had to do something more. Merlin had to help Gwen, her first real female friend her own age. And so, without Gaius' knowledge, that evening she slipped out of the chambers with a poultice she had made and with a few magical slights of hand, she had managed to stick it under Tom's pillow.

The next day Tom was back to blacksmithing and Gwen was back to smiling, but word of Tom's illness had already spread. In the newly concentrated magic hunt, Arthur discovered the charm Merlin had so carelessly left in place and, to Merlin's horror, Guinevere was arrested as a witch and threatened with the most gruesome of sorcerer executions if she did not stop the plague.

Gaius was upset with her foolhardy actions, berating Merlin for disregarding her warnings. "I thought I was doing good and that curing Gwen's father would help her," Merlin defended. "I thought I was saving a life. It seemed so simple."

Gaius sighed. "An easy solution is like a light in a storm, Merlin. Rush for it at your peril, for it may not always lead you to a safe harbor." Merlin vowed to remember this advice in the future, but for now she had to figure out a way to fix this terrible wrong. She even went to visit Gwen in the dungeons. The poor girl was frightened and distraught. Merlin could hardly bear to stay with her friend after Gwen tearfully requested that Myrddin remember her.

Having heard this, knowing the terrible fate awaiting the maidservant, Merlin sought seclusion, sitting on her thin bed pallet, disgusted with herself. Gaius had been right. How often had Hunith counseled her to be wise with her magic, to guard it as her most precious secret? And now, because of a few lucky rescues, she thought she could get away with anything? Merlin squirmed in her seat, but nothing could dislodge the guilt in the pit of her stomach.

And the worst of it was, Merlin concluded, that it was not she that paid the price for her arrogance and foolhardy actions. No, she had condemned an innocent, sweet- hearted girl to a tortuous death.

With that, Merlin resolved that she would make amends. The fault was hers, and she would right it, even at the cost of her own life. Uther may think that all magic users had no honor, but she would take full responsibility for her own crimes. Leaving some letters for Gaius to forward to Hunith and Will in Ealdor, and a full confession to send to Powys, Merlin headed determinedly for the chambers where the king was sitting in council.

* * *

It was gratifying to be included in the king's council over such serious proceedings, but Arthur also found it immensely frustrating. Nothing had come of the searches he had conducted earlier and the only useful thing he had done so far was arrest Morgana's maidservant, which he now feared Morgana might hate him forever over, even though Arthur had supported Morgana as she tried to plead Guinevere's case to the king. But the arrest wasn't enough to stop the plague and so here sat all these men, arguing over ineffectual means to prevent the disaster.

Arthur was beginning to grasp what his father found so odious about magic. This was a battle that couldn't be fought on the fields of honor. No, this pestilence insidiously crept into the city, killing without discrimination, hitting even those exempt from the usual casualties of civilized warfare, women, children, unarmed peasants. There was no chivalry about it. And while Guinevere had always seemed a very sweet girl, if she was causing this destruction...

But no, that couldn't be right. If Guinevere had started this plague, surely she would have prevented her father from getting sick. What had his father warned him about earlier? That if they could not stop the sickness, people would turn to magic for help. Yet another way magic weakened the hearts of the unexpecting. If Guinevere sought a cure from the same magic that had killed so many, then she was guilty of treason, but in an entirely different way than they were questioning. Perhaps in Guinevere's mind the crime was not so great, and so instead of accusing her of sorcery, demanding she stop the plague, they should turn their queries to who she had gone to for the poultice. That must be the answer. The sorcerer was planning a two front war: killing people with the plague, then corrupting the desperate with hopes of magical cures.

But before Arthur could voice these thoughts, the council chamber doors burst open and with a disproportionately loud bang for the size of the person walking in, Arthur caught sight of his manservant.

The men all fell silent, most not knowing who it was before them. But three people did know, and Arthur knew they were all shocked at so indecorous an appearance. Before Myrddin could be questioned, he started in on the answers.

"I did it. Guinevere is completely innocent. I'm the one who used magic to cure her father, and start the plague," he said in a rush. Arthur was shocked. What an incredibly stupid thing to come confess before the king. But at Myrddin including the plague itself in his confession, the realization that Arthur had just reached bolstered up the prince's conviction that his useless manservant was not telling the truth. Time to save Myrddin from his own idiocy. It would be ridiculous to have to replace Myrddin just because he was stupid.

"He doesn't know what he's saying," Arthur said suddenly. A glance at Gaius showed the old man to be relieved that someone was not taking Myrddin seriously. "He's suffering from a grave mental illness. Gaius is looking into it." At the still dubious look of his father, Arthur continued, with the kind of instinctual brilliance which one only realizes as one is speaking how brilliant it is. "He's in love." All turned to the prince. "With Gwen." Seeing their attention on him, Arthur knew he had to keep directing the audience with his words. It was the only way to stop Uther ordering a summary execution. Going over to the manservant, who was also looking at him in surprise, Arthur clapped a hand on his far shoulder.

"I'm not in love with Gwen," the servant sputtered, his voice breaking comically on the last word.

"It's okay, Myrddin, you can admit it," Arthur said, and seeing out of the corner of his eye that Uther looked appeased by this turn of events, Arthur shuffled the still protesting Myrddin out the door. Gaius looked grateful and Arthur returned to the matter at hand. He would not voice his opinion about Guinevere's relative innocence. Hopefully they would find the sorcerer some other way and thus Guinevere would be released. If she had indeed sought magical aid, surely she had learned her lesson.

After all, it really wouldn't do to break his manservant's heart. Because even though it had been merely a desperate ploy, Arthur could see the truth in the lie. Myrddin was constantly in Gwen's company, he mentioned her often in his pointless babblings, he sported a flower from her. Arthur stopped at that last thought. Once this horrid business was past, he would have to teach Myrddin the proper way to court a lady.

* * *

Unceremoniously kicked out of the council room, Merlin returned to the chambers she had left. Deciding to secret her book in a better place, in case of another search, Merlin also stuck her apology notes into the book as well. The parchment letters would serve as an explanation to her family if she ever was arrested for sorcery. The best place to conceal the book turned out to be in the space beneath the loose floorboard.

Gaius returned an hour or so later, and he didn't waste a moment before berating Myrddin for her second sorcery stupidity. Merlin was contrite and Gaius turned back to the matter at hand, the matter of the disease's source. Having concluded that it must be in the water supply, physician and princess set out to find the source, hopefully before Gwen was executed. Fortunately Gaius held a position of trust and had been given keys to the locked tunnels surrounding Camelot's underground water reserves. Gaius explained about the aqueducts of Camelot as they walked them, coming to stop at last in front of a large pool held within stone reservoirs. Merlin stepped forward to collect a sample of the water, so that they could analyze the properties originating within them. She had barely filled her vial when a great, brown, monstrous creature rose out of the water. Neither person knew what it was, and quickly they made their way back to their books.

After much searching in the books, they discovered what manner of animal the creature had been, though knowing it was an Afanc and that it was causing the plague did much less to solve their problems than they'd initially suspected. The discovery of the Afanc wasn't enough to guarantee Gwen's safety, seeing as the beast was one produced solely by sorcery. Gaius continued to look in his books, but Merlin felt she needed to do more. Her two magical impulses had proved near disasters; perhaps it was time to consult an outside opinion.

The lair of the Great Dragon was not empty as it frequently was when she joined. Instead the dragon was lying lazily in wait for her. She almost wished she could indulge in the same sort of equanimity as the dragon was. But there were lives at stake.

"I need to know how to defeat an Afanc," she said without preamble.

"Yes," the dragon responded in calm amusement, "I suppose you do." Merlin glared at the dragon. Was no one helpful in this city?

"Can you help me?" she asked.

"Trust the elements at your command," the dragon replied. Merlin looked at him in confusion. Wasn't there some sort of spell for this? Elements almost sounded sciencey, which was more Gaius' purview.

"But what is it I have to do?" she queried.

"You cannot do this alone. You are but one side of a coin. Arthur is the other." The dragon flew off then, leaving Merlin staring. Two plagues seemed to have hit Camelot; one was poisoning the well, the second one a sort of matchmaking lovesickness. Two sides of a coin indeed, she grumbled in annoyance as she made her way above ground again. The whole city had gone insane. The sooner everyone accepted that she wasn't in love with anyone, the happier she'd be.

Dully Merlin turned again to Gaius' books, looking for something about elements. Gaius interrupted her then, wondering what she was looking for. She explained the idea about elements, asking where she could find a book on them.

Gaius had confirmed Merlin's initial impression that finding the elements was quite 'sciency' when he informed her, "The study of elements lies at the heart of the scientific process."

"How will that help me defeat an afanc?" Merlin wondered.

"Well," Gaius said, sitting down. "The Afanc is evidently comprised of Earth and Water. They are two of the four base elements."

"What are the other two?" Merlin asked.

"Wind and Fire." Merlin nodded her head. So if she were to return to the water reservoirs, and lure the Afanc out of the water, and burn it, the plague would theoretically be defeated, she mused.

Gaius was musing on a whole other question. "Where did you come up with this?"

Merlin looked at the kind old man, one she highly respected and cared a great deal about. Should she mention the dragon? She made a split second decision not to tell, after all, Gaius had been rather disappointed with her other magical avenues so far. So she fabricated. "It's own of my powers."

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. What else do your powers tell you?"

"That I'm one half of a coin. The brighter half obviously." Gaius looked amused by that.

"And who is the other half?"

Merlin dearly hoped that this answer wouldn't mislead the man into thinking she thought she and Arthur completed each other, or some other ridiculous notion. "I think it might be Arthur."

* * *

Morgana had been worrying about how to save her maidservant and best friend ever since Gwen's arrest. Pleading to Uther had had no avail. Nor, apparently, had the brave stand of Myrddin. But the news she had received just barely, that Guinevere's execution was being brought up to that evening, made her desperate to become more involved. Gaius had always been a friend to her, and she knew he was investigating this mysterious malady.

Myrddin and Gaius were ensconced in stacks of books when she arrived. She informed them of the nearing execution, and they informed her that they had found an Afanc.

"We can't tell Uther," Myrddin said, "considering the Afanc is conjured with strong magic and Uther will doubtless continue to blame Gwen. But if we can somehow destroy this creature and end the plague, we might have a chance of staying the punishment." Morgana nodded her understanding.

"What do you need?"

"Arthur," was the surprising answer.

"Arthur?" Morgana repeated.

"He is our best shot at defeating this creature physically. Besides, he'd feel bad if we left him out." Morgana smirked at that.

"Don't worry," she assured the physician. "I know how to get him to help."

Arthur was fortunately in his quarters when Morgana arrived. He immediately began apologizing for the mess, blaming Myrddin's absence. Morgana wanted to retort that her chambers looked fine, despite _her_ maid being _imprisoned_, but in the spirit of cooperation she refrained. However, she did use the opening Arthur supplied.

"Poor Myrddin. I can't imagine what he must be going through with Guinevere's arrest."

Arthur concurred and Morgana skillfully lead Arthur to agree that if he could, he would prevent Gwen's execution, if not for the maid's sake, then to spare his manservant's broken heart.

"Excellent," Morgana said. "Myrddin has a plan for how to end this plague, but we need your help."

"Myrddin has a plan?" Arthur said dubiously. "Given the suicidal nature of Myrddin's schemes, which nearly had him executed for sorcery just today, I'm not willing to go along with this."

"Gaius actually has approved of this one," Morgana assured him. "Come on." Arthur made to follow. Morgana stopped at the doorway, "And make sure to bring your sword."

The almost siblings met up with Myrddin in the courtyard and made their way to the locked passageways of the reservoirs while Myrddin explained what they had found. As they each grabbed a torch, Arthur became his usual overbearing self, insisting that Morgana stay safely out of the adventure. Morgana rolled her eyes and headed down the tunnels. But once the creature started growling unseen from the winding maze of dirt tunnels, Morgana's blind bravado faded some. The trio split up, trying to cover all bases as swiftly as possible.

Arthur was the first to actually catch sight of the creature, though his report consisted merely of 'it's fast'. Morgana saw it the second time, and she couldn't contain the scream. Arthur rushed at the creature, but all that resulted in was the loss of his sword and of Morgana's torch.

Surprisingly enough, it was Myrddin who kept his head, yelling at Arthur to use his torch. Arthur started lunging at the malformed beast , Morgana and Myrddin huddling next to the walls to give Arthur the maximum space to fight in. It was a strange scene before them; the flickering lighting, the creature's growls. But there was more eeriness of the lonely tunnels amplified by the strange whispering that echoed from Myrddin's wall. But the battle was over rather swiftly once Arthur's flame made contact with the animal. The torch seemed to explode, a huge cloud of fire lighting all over the Afanc and eventually destroying it.

After a pause to take in the creature's destruction, all three adults straightened up, surprised that, in the end, the fight had been so brief. Arthur went to retrieve his sword while Myrddin went to one of the pools of water. Morgana watched as the servant fished something out.

"What is that?" she asked. Myrddin turned to the girl, showing what she had found. Morgana looked at it, trying to figure out what it was. "Is that some sort of shell?"

"I think it's the egg the Afanc hatched from," Myrddin confirmed. Arthur joined them then.

"We need to report to the king. You, Myrddin, take that shell to Gaius and ask him to report to the king whether the plague has appeared to stop spreading." The servant nodded and Morgana breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully Gwen's release would be soon secured.

* * *

With reluctance Uther prepared an announcement to close off the interactions between the lower town and the palace. The quarantine would only last until the witch currently held in the dungeons had burned and her magical pestilence confirmed to be over, but with the risk of plague spreading, quarantine was a necessary precaution. He had never enjoyed having to enact such extreme measures, and Arthur's distress at the judgment had reminded Uther of his own youth, when he first was faced with the weight of responsibility. One day Arthur would learn what it meant to be king, to have to weigh the costs of lives and remain resolute with those choices.

Speaking of the prince, his son strode into the room at that moment.

"Father, I would like to request that the scheduled execution of Morgana's maidservant be terminated. The source of the plague has been found and eliminated." Uther was surprised, though he didn't react until his son expounded on his story, proving that it wasn't a pipe dream. But apparently Gaius had discovered a magical creature in the underground water supply, and had sent his ward to tell Arthur about it. Arthur had gone down to the tunnels and had defeated the Afanc.

Uther was pleased to see his son taking action. But he sent for Gaius, getting a second collaboration and proof that this Afanc had been the disease's source before he could consider the affair as resolved.

When Gaius arrived he confirmed the story, as well as providing an update on the status of all who had been inflicted. Uther was relieved at the news; all who had been sick were on the mend, and there had been no new cases. If the plague had not been stopped, not only would many more of the city's inhabitants be dead, but the Mercian envoy would be able to arrive the next week as scheduled. The peace treaty had required months of deliberation and diplomacy and calling it off would have been a large setback. But before Uther could write off the conclusion of this disaster as peacefully and satisfactorily resolved, the magician soundly defeated, Gaius revealed what he was carrying and the troubling news the cracked egg shell held.

"It's conjured from clay by powerful magic. The type that can only be invoked by an ancient sorcerer. One that has the power to mirror the spirit of life. I found this at the water source." He carefully unwrapped the cracked egg shell, pointing out a small mark made on it, an insignia made out of intersecting angles. Gravely he said, "It bears the mark of Nimueh. We must be vigilant, Sire."

Uther paled at that knowledge. "Will I never be rid of her?" he asked in a tortured, bitter voice. He was tossed into the painful recollections of the evil Nimueh had done twenty years ago, and he dismissed everyone abruptly from the room. Some wounds he would not share with anyone. Indeed, no one must every know the harm Nimueh had inflicted, nor how she had gotten close enough to the king to do so.

Alone, Uther paced his chambers, thinking angrily on the beautiful, powerful witch. He did not know that in another man's quarters, another man paced alone, thinking on two beautiful, powerful witches. Gaius remembered Nimueh, having known Nimueh for thirty years. But his reflections were more mixed than Uther's. Gaius could clearly envision Nimueh as she had at first appeared, merely a talented high priestess. Over the years, her cruelty had soon become undeniable. It grieved Gaius to report her now with proof that Nimueh's cruel vengeance had not faded, to stir Uther's anger at such remembrances as Nimueh always must bring, especially when another beautiful, talented witch had come to Camelot. The physician could only hope that Merlin would remain an unknown to both king and priestess. Both would see her as an enemy.

* * *

Nimueh was furious in her cave, where she watched her plan so adroitly foiled. This was to be her greatest vengeance to Uther; the slow poisoning of his people, his having to admit that he had need of her, his eventually begging her to bring back the power of the old religion. And if he confused to concede, his kingdom would fall. That would have been immensely satisfying. All foiled by some upstart peasant living with that traitor Gaius.

Nimueh screamed in frustration, but then stopped herself as a happy thought asserted itself. This Myrddin had used magic to stop her. Surely Gaius could not know this, the treacherous, Uther-placating man that he was. Surely Gaius was as worthy of her revenge as Uther was. She would take this ward of his from him.

Quickly Nimueh began to scheme again. Over the next days she came up with a scheme, a plot with built in contingencies. Mercia was due to visit Camelot in a few days; she would be one of the party. Tense diplomatic relations would play so easily into her plot, give her a way to ingratiate herself into the heart of Camelot. Bayard and Uther were longstanding antagonists; an assassination attempt should make the trade negotiations disintegrate nicely. It didn't really matter which one drank the cup, Arthur or Myrddin, though given that this paltry-magician had declared war on her by supporting Uther's plots, she rather hoped that the one to die with her poison would be Myrddin.

* * *

Now that Guinevere had been released from the dungeons and her death sentence, Arthur and Morgana colluded to bring their respective servants together. Arthur was to take care of the wooing lessons, while Morgana would orchestrate Myrddin and Gwen being in the same place at the same time, giving Myrddin the chance to confess his love.

Morgana had wasted no time on her side of the bargain. As soon as Gwen had returned to work, Morgana regaled her friend with the story of Myrddin's rescue efforts.

"He burst into the council chambers, stared Uther in the face and said, 'I cannot allow you to execute Guinevere. She would never use magic. She is innocent!'" Gwen was wide-eyed at the tale. Morgana too was caught up in the drama, giving into the thrill of the enthralling events. Morgana knew that Myrddin hadn't confessed his love in as many words, but that had clearly been his intention. Thus she felt no guilt in giving the sometimes shy Guinevere more overt declarations than might have actually been made. So she continued with the climax of the scene. "As you can imagine, the king was about to throw the poor boy out, but Myrddin didn't stop there. 'I am the sorcerer,' Myrddin cried. 'I demand you release Gwen and take me in her stead.'"

Gwen's reaction was everything Morgana could have hoped for. The conversation quickly turned to dissecting the story in minute detail, pondering the hidden meanings behind each word, all of Myrddin's subsequent actions, from the time Gwen was arrested until the time she was released. Into this lively chatter came a knock at the door.

Morgana answered it, unsurprised to see Myrddin there. If Arthur had followed through with his share of the collusion, Myrddin should have an original love poem to read to Gwen on the walk home.

"Arthur has given me the rest of the evening off, and wanted me to make sure that there was nothing you two ladies needed." Morgana smiled wider. Excellent.

"I'm fine," Morgana assured. "But Gwen was just heading home. I insist that you walk her to her cottage, make sure she arrives safely." Morgana's smirk widened at the blushes on both servants' cheeks. Each tried to protest, Gwen in particular, pointing out that Morgana wasn't yet ready for bed. But Morgana didn't listen. She shooed the couple out and closed the door swiftly behind them. Step one in facilitating the romance of Myrddin and Guinevere was complete.

* * *

_In Which There is a Post Script AN: As I explained in my newly reuploaded chapter one, my more humorous side generated all the chapter titles in a very hasty manner, mostly by writing my initial thoughts about the episode or what I planned on writing in the chapter in a minute or less as I did my first brainstorming. Though my long, verbose, sarcastic chapter headings mostly failed to win the competition to be the actual story titles, I didn't want to abandon them entirely. Thus, when I have more than one perspective chapter heading, I'll include what it was almost called at the end. This one's alternate title was: _

_In Which 'Merlin' Temporarily Resembles a Shakespearean Comedy, Given that Certain Main Female Characters Dressed Up Like Males are Wooed by Other Main Female Characters and Some Purposely Terrible Love Poetry is Written._


	5. In Which Camelot Makes and Breaks Severa

**In Which There is a Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC Merlin, and any recognizable lines mostly come from Season One Episode 4 "The Poisoned Chalice". However, there is a scene taken from Season One Episode 6 "A Remedy to Cure All Ills". That Episode is not represented in this retelling because, quite frankly, I didn't like it. If you did like it, feel free to imagine it occurred somewhere around here. Also, I took the spells from the transcripts on the Merlin wiki. I'm trusting they are accurate, but I really have absolutely no idea. **

_In Which the Author Gives a Warning: Here is Where I Begin to Wreak Havoc with the usual way the story unfolds. I have my reasons (which I am happy to explain to people in a PM to anyone extremely disgruntled by the chapter ending). Once again I apologize for the excessively long hiatus in posting prior to today.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Five: In Which Camelot Makes and Breaks Several Diplomatic Treaties  
**

* * *

Defeating an Afanc as a joint effort (of course the exact ideas of who contributed what varied among the participants) had had an interesting effect on the group of young royals and their servants. Or perhaps it was merely the end of death threatening sickness for all of them, or the relief at not being executed on the part of Gwen, and a relaxation of the guilt that Merlin felt for almost causing the lattermost, that led to increased teasing among the group. This was most noticeable with the prince and his manservant.

At the moment, Myrddin was looking in disbelief at the hole in the tunic Arthur had just handed her. "I don't know how you managed to get holes in the shirt you only wear on feast days where you sit around and do nothing, but I suppose I must now run off and see if I can get it mended before tonight," she said in exasperation, privately thankful one of the castle seamstresses was a friend of hers.

"Get it mended? As in you will not be doing the actual mending?" Arthur asked slyly from behind the dressing screen. "I suppose you are hoping to get in a little extra time to see Guinevere."

"I am not that bad at flirting that I would need to take her more work so that she would talk to me," Merlin protested indignantly. To Merlin's mortification, Arthur had remained convinced that her confessing to magic was proof positive that she was lovesick and had taken to giving her hints on how to properly woo a lady. He'd even gone so far as to insist Myrddin work on writing love poetry under his tutelage. It was a memory that Merlin generally kept repressed.

"Don't worry, Myrddin. I understand completely. In fact, you will be glad to know that you get special ceremonial robes as befits my personal servant for this evening. I am sure that Morgana's maid will not be able to take her eyes off your dashing form when she sees you, in this hat." Merlin took one look at the hat in question, an atrociously ugly thing sprouting feathers, and glared at Arthur. He simply grinned cheerily back.

But later, after the oddly discomfiting run-in in the hall with that foreign serving girl, to Merlin the feathered hat was the least of her worries. Merlin looked ahead, keeping her face straight despite her exasperation. Between Cara's come hither looks and Gwen's jealousy, and this hat, and Arthur's laughing eyes as he imperiously ordered drink refills Merlin was wondering why she had ever enjoyed feasts at all.

As Bayard started in on all the meticulous formal verbiage required of the presentation of ceremonial gifts, Cara made her way to where the Camelot servants were standing. Despite her overly seductive movements making Merlin uncomfortable, she could hardly refuse a desperate person, and so followed her away from the feast.

Out in the hall, Merlin could hardly believe her ears. Bayard had poisoned the ceremonial goblets? Who delivered poison by such an obvious and flashy medium? As a visiting king he had little chance of escaping Uther's wrath or his soldiers. But could Merlin really take the risk that it was not poisoned? All her instincts shouted that something was not right about this situation.

She hastily made her way back into the room with a half formed scheme to politely insist that a ceremonial cup bearer first taste the liquid. But when she entered the room, it was to see that Arthur had already accepted the chalice and so instead of some flowery mumbo-jumbo, Merlin blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Stop! It's poisoned." The entire room looked at her, and Myrddin was thankful that she had at least taken off that hat. Both kings looked furious and Arthur was looking very close to ordering her to the stocks, upset that she had once again burst into a room making a rash, possibly treasonous announcement.

For a moment the court was at an impasse, the extremely formal rituals of the court not built to respond to such uncensored speaking. But Uther once again seized control of the situation, demanding an apology to Bayard. But Merlin daren't let the cup pass to Arthur and so, despite the absolutely chilling threats of the kings, Myrddin the manservant reached for the goblet. Hoping that the upcoming war with Mercia would not be inflamed by war cries from Powys at the death of their only princess, either from poison, or from being punished by Bayard, Merlin took up the goblet. She had no idea why she was even so desperate to be the one drinking the poison instead of Arthur, but she was. Trying not to get caught up in a web of feelings and rationalizing, Merlin merely lifted the goblet and toasted Arthur's good health. For a minute all was fine, and then she collapsed.

* * *

Arthur thought many negative things about his manservant on a day to day basis. He complained about his weakness with a sword and his insubordination towards his person. But he also found his manservant quite funny and definitely one not to make things dull. And in the last few months, the loyalty Myrddin showed, the lengths he went to to help Arthur-first saving his life from Lady Helen, warning about knight Valiant, even dragging him back when he tried to elope, and most recently since they had defeated whatever creature was poisoning the citadel-all of it had combined into his coming to rely upon Myrddin to a degree.

His new found ability to tease Myrddin about Guinevere was also something he relished about his manservant. All evening he had been secretly entertained by the glares Guinevere sent one of Bayard's flirtatious serving maids while Myrddin tried to act all nonchalant about his hat. But what was shaping up to be a nice dull feast was compromised when the boy burst into the hall and offered to drink from the goblet he claimed was poisoned. It was a strange almost déjà vu, once again Myrddin was bursting into a formal setting and making brash proclamations. Unfortunately, Arthur couldn't pass this off indecorous intrusion as lovesickness a second time. And so with increasing horror he watched Myrddin drink from the goblet, and then collapse half a minute later.

Arthur jumped forward, hauling his manservant over his shoulder so that he could carry him to Gaius'. He half registered Uther's shout for guards and the pandemonium of arresting the visiting monarch and party, but all he could think about was that Myrddin was even smaller than his baggy clothes had suggested. Did this boy not eat? Arthur knew that Myrddin wasn't the tallest of men, but the boy in his arms was almost too skinny and weightless.

He made his way to the physician quarters, and Gaius and Gwen crowded around. Once it was established where the flower came from, and that its remedy could only be made from the same plant, grown only in the distant Caves of Balor, Arthur set off to talk to his father. He knew that his father would be extremely resistant, but he had to try. The boy had unflinchingly, knowingly drunk poison and Arthur would repay that loyalty. He shook off Morgana's recriminations as he prepared himself to deal with his father as diplomatically as possible. He took a deep breath before pushing open the doors to his father's private council chambers. A new type of battle plan was needed for this war.

* * *

Gaius wasn't entirely sure how Arthur had convinced Uther to let him go after the flower, but he was grateful that the prince had been able to leave with all possible haste. As Merlin's moaning and muttering increased, Gaius gratitude that Arthur was already well on his way only multiplied. The healer was not alone in his vigil; Gwen was there was much as she could be aside from completing her duties—though Morgana was of course willing to forgo some of the finer points of her care so that Gwen could be as useful as possible.

One day into Myrddin's illness the servant remained incoherent, though she never stopped mumbling. The girl seemed restless. But the overall situation continued to trouble Gaius, especially as the current symptoms intensified and new ones manifested. As Gwen looked anxiously on, he found the passage that described the rash that had just appeared on Merlin's skin, detailing the advent of the rash as the two day precursor to death. They had half as much time to get the antidote as they had thought.

"Something must be accelerating the disease's progress," Gaius murmured.

"But what?" Gwen asked. Gaius read further in his book, and soon realized the whole issue. "It must be magic."

"But Bayard is no sorcerer," Gwen said. Gaius had to agree; something was off about the entire situation. Someone else was responsible for this plot, and he had a suspicion. He knew someone who was skilled in making potions of this nature, someone who had recently moved against Camelot once again. Someone who he feared had realized who was responsible for the magical portion of the Afanc's defeat.

"She wouldn't dare come here," Gaius ruminated, half to himself.

"Who?" Gwen asked curiously.

Gaius turned to the servant. "What happened to that girl?"

"Which girl?"

"Just before Myrddin burst into the hall one of Bayard's serving girls took him outside," Gaius said. He was amazed he'd noticed such a thing with all else going on in the hall, but looking after his ward whenever Merlin was in the presence of the king had become second nature to him, so worried was he about the girl doing something magical, impetuous, foolish, or, most likely of all, a combination of all three. Gwen too had been paying attention to the manservant, though Gaius suspected she had for very different reasons.

"She had dark hair. Very beautiful."

Gaius nodded. "Find her. Quickly." As Guinevere ran off to check the dungeons, where every member of the Mercian party was currently being held, Gaius turned his attention back to his patient. Merlin continued to mumble, uttering Arthur's name more than anything else. Gaius had been alarmed at the string of spells that frequently fell from the girl's lips, grateful that Guinevere, at least, had not recognized the old tongue as it was uttered.

Gwen returned hastily, but Gaius forestalled her news. Sending Gwen to check the dungeons had been more of a formality, verifying an almost foregone conclusion. "Let me guess, she wasn't there."

Guinevere shook her head. "No one has seen her since the banquet. Who is she?"

"Not who she claims to be." He glanced again at Merlin's still form. For whatever reason, Uther had let his son go after the flower, but Gaius was not fooled into thinking that the king had been happy about the development. His anger would be ignited (if it wasn't already) when he realized that the prince was heading not merely to beast infested forest, but into a sorceress' trap, into _her_ trap.

"But you know, don't you?"

Gaius nodded. "Cara. Though, that's not her name. Not her real name, anyway." Gwen was curious for more details, but Gaius knew that Nimueh was not a name to be spoken lightly in this castle, nor could Gaius explain why that was so without breaking the vow he had made to his king, the vow of silence concerning the events that precipitated the Purge. With another glance to the still ailing patient. Gwen was willing to watch over Myrddin and Gaius quickly made his way to the council chambers, where Uther was, no doubt, preparing for a retaliating attack to Camelot.

"Sire, forgive the interruption, but may I speak with you?"

The king looked annoyed, already stressed about his son's absence. "Not now."

"But, Your Highness, it is important."

"Word of Bayard's arrest will soon get back to Mercia. We must prepare for attack," the king said, gesturing to one of the knights nearby and pointing out something on the map. Gaius persisted despite the king's brushing him off.

"I feel that what I have to tell you may have some bearing on your plans. Please, it will only take a moment." At last Uther stepped aside, preparing to hear his old friend.

"I know who tried to poison Arthur." Uther looked annoyed at being pulled away from his war council for the obvious.

"So do I. He's locked in my dungeons."

"It wasn't Bayard. The poison was magical. And I'd recognize the hand that made it anywhere: Nimueh." Uther took a step back, doubly upset at the second time in recent days that Gaius had come to him with word of the witch's mark. Gaius succeeded in convincing Uther that Bayard had not allied himself with the witch, at the very least because such an obvious poisoning was a juvenile move in the long series of political steps which had been months in the orchestrating. At last the king was convinced, and Gaius returned to his chambers while Uther summoned the arrested monarch.

* * *

While the tensions of Bayard's arrest and then newly found innocence made for diplomatic nightmares in the castle proper, Gaius escaped much of that aftermath. He dealt with the tension in the physician's quarters, the endless waiting and hopeless watching.

At what ended up being the midway point of this convalescence, Gaius had to send Gwen away on a bogus errand because Merlin had started doing magic. Merlin's words became a bit more distinct, less slurred. "Arthur. It's too dark. Too dark. Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme. Fromum feohgiftum." The witch had conjured up a strange sphere of light, and started giving directions, her natural, more feminine voice coming out here, no longer masked by the magic spells that helped make the Myrddin disguise. Taking in the whole situation, Gaius looked in awe at the girl.

He had long suspected that Merlin was something he had never encountered before. Her arrival into Camelot four months earlier had been marked by an increase of magical attacks. Furthermore, her instinctual magic, her wordless power, her ability to meddle with the speed of time itself, they had been all given Gaius a sense that here was something greater than he had seen before.

But this magic while she was on her deathbed, this was something more. If the situation was what he thought it might be, then Merlin was protecting Arthur at an incomprehensible distance and while severely incapacitated. And with that thought, Gaius was certain that he had these many months come to care for a girl with a great destiny, that this scene here was but a small moment in the grand scheme of things.

When the ball of light at last disappeared, and Guinevere had returned, Gaius went on a second, secret errand, visiting someone who had once been a regular conversation partner, much as Nimueh had been, twenty years ago. The old man felt almost surreal going once more to the cave of the great dragon.

Holding his torch aloft, Gaius gazed at the ancient face, unsure what the dragon was thinking, if he remembered the physician who had been implicated in the beast's capture and his dragon lord's banishment.

"It is me, Gaius." The dragon didn't move, merely looked at him a moment.

"How old a man can become and change so little."

"You have not changed either," Gaius retorted with little rancor. They were both much the same as they had always been, at once allies and enemies, for the dragon had always seen his path as right no matter how radical, no matter how vengeful, while Gaius had always urged the conservative route, even, and most especially, in matters of response to Uther's merciless magical abolition.

"Twenty years, almost a lifetime, to make the short journey back to where you began," the dragon said, continuing his strange personal script of riddles and enigmas. But Gaius would not let the other dictate the terms of the conversation. The dragon saw much, knew about more prophecies than Gaius did and that was the knowledge Gaius sought. If the dragon would confirm what Gaius merely suspected, then, and only then in Gaius' opinion, should the dragon indulge in his tendency to pontificate. Besides his musings about the physician were meaningless. Man and dragon had decided upon their fates long ago. The only thing that could change their positions of twenty years ago would be if Merlin were here to change things. And so Gaius cut to the point.

"I am not here for myself."

"The princess," the dragon stated, as if he had always known what they would talk about, making his opening even more of an unnecessarily dramatic prologue.

"You know about Merlin?" Gaius asked, but he was not surprised.

"She has struggled against her destiny, but you can no more prevent it than she can." Gaius did not smile in triumph, but he felt pleased, as if he had won a victory in getting the dragon to talk about what the man actually wanted to talk about.

"So it is true then," the physician said in an undertone, though the dragon heard it. The implications of that truth were large, but he was content to know; knowing would allow Merlin and him to face it, to deal with it.

"Oh yes. She and the young Pendragon will one day unite the land of Albion." Gaius left the dragon after a few more inconsequential words, and Gaius returned above ground, deep in thought. Merlin would not be pleased to hear that she was so destined to be with Arthur, determined as the princess was that she would not marry him, but Gaius had more faith in the heart of the Old Religion than Merlin who hadn't grown up with it enough to really understand it. Curious things had happened since the princess had arrived in Camelot, and though the princess might refuse to see the implications, the old ones of the old ways were not so blinded to them.

* * *

It was a quiet day in the physician's chambers. Quiet but tension filled. If the antidote was not successfully retrieved within that day, it would be Merlin's last. The physician sat, attended to by Gwen, anxious about whether Arthur would return in time to save the princess, hopeful that he would considering the destiny which had just been unfurled before Gaius, exhausted in the waiting, but overall Gaius was simply quiet because there was nothing that could be done one way or another until the prince returned, if he had not succumbed to the priestess' trap.

When at last Arthur arrived Gaius was grateful that the boy did not linger, instead heading directly to his father. Quickly Gaius added the leaves to the concoction he had already made in preparation. Carefully he administered the mixture, but it did not affect Merlin. With a jolt, he realized just what he would need to do.

Distractedly he sent an anxious Gwen for more water and then Gaius turned again to the girl that was poised at the beginning of her great destiny, a girl already having been granted a great legacy. He had harbored a witch for months, despite his liege's edicts, but for the first time in twenty years he was going to directly break the real promise he had made to Uther. He was going to do magic.

With a deep breath, Gaius felt a long dormant power rise up in him, and with a once ever so familiar flash of golden eyes, he said, only hesitating on the first word, then overcoming his anxiety, "Sythan arrest wearth feasceaft funden. Denum æfter dome. Dreamleas gebad he gewinnes longsum."

Gwen returned just as he was ready to administer the now magically charged dose and anxiously the two watched. At first nothing happened, and then Merlin stopped breathing. Both attendants stared in stunned silence at the body, both having harbored a sure faith that the girl would make it. Given all that Gaius had just realized, he hardly knew what to think. Yet just as the two began to succumb to the grief at Myrddin's passing, Merlin woke, cracking an impudent joke as she did so.

Gaius was content to merely smile in relief, but Gwen's initial reaction was much more passionate. She grabbed Myrddin's face and gave 'him' a fervent kiss. Merlin merely blinked in shock and a little mortification. Guinevere turned shy and red, stumbling over her words as she backed away in her own share of embarrassment. Ah, the trials of youth, Gaius thought. A much relieved handmaiden hurried off to tell Morgana that all was well, and at last, Gaius turned to his ward who was even now looking ready to fall asleep again. They would need to talk about what this meant for her, this destiny, this power, but Gaius merely patted the girl's hands and instructed her to go to sleep. Destiny would wait a little while longer.

* * *

As Arthur rode into the courtyard, he hastily dismounted. The journey had been as dangerous as Gaius had warned. There had been cockatrices and sorceresses and strange hissing spiders. There had also been a mysteriously peaceful magical orb that had guided him to safety. But that was the past. As he made his way to Gaius' quarter it was the present that was more pressing. He could only hope that he had made the journey with enough alacrity that Myrddin would be cured. Knowing that his father was unhappy with the expedition that took him away from the city when so many treaties needed to be examined and negotiated, and that Uther would be impatient to see him, he knew he would only have a few moments to visit Gaius. Thus he dropped the flower off with little fanfare before heading to the council room.

Arthur approached the guards at the door as a prisoner marching to his execution. After much argument with Uther, Arthur had secured permission to go after the flower, so it was not a punishment that he dreaded. Well, at least not the threat of imprisonment. Okay, he wasn't about to be incarcerated. But that didn't mean that a different sort of penalty wasn't awaiting. After months of stalemate, the king had finally outmaneuvered the knight. Arthur recalled the conversation with the king, still a bit unsure how exactly the idea had popped into the monarch's head.

They had been talking about the moral implications of allowing someone who was just poisoned on one's own behalf to die when there was an antidote relatively readily available. In frustration Arthur had cried, "I won't watch him die! Not when I can save him."

"Then don't look," Uther said with a chilling finality. "You cannot run off for the mere life of a servant. And you will not disobey me in this. You will have to do many hard things in your road to becoming king and sacrifices will have to be made."

"Father, please, I am a skilled warrior and I can make it safely to the caves and back…" Arthur began to counter argue.

"You have been reluctant to make the sort of decision and sacrifices necessary of a future king. You have refused to make alliances with both Powys and Gawant." Though Uther's words remained cold, Arthur felt a certain confusion at them. How had the conversation gone from death to marriage so suddenly?

"I will submit to any discipline you would see fit to punish me with, if you will only allow me to go after this flower," Arthur said, hoping that the willingness to accept consequences would show he was not ignorant of the requirements before him. Arthur knew that his father was right in one respect; many men would die for him when he was their king. Even as a prince, he had lost many good knights whilst they fought for king and country. But this wasn't some death that had happened quickly and regrettably. There was a way to save Myrddin. He may be insubordinate and clumsy, but he was brave and loyal. The whole poison scheme had been typical of Myrddin; he didn't solve things the traditional, diplomatic way, perhaps, but he faced things courageously. Myrddin had helped save his life three times now since being in Camelot and Arthur needed to repay that debt. "I beg you, let me save his life."

Uther was silent, his back still to Arthur. "You would be willing to follow through with any condition I set should I let you go? Including marriage to Powys?"

Ever since the Sophia incident, Uther had been increasingly pushy on this issue. And Arthur knew that it would be his duty one day. Thinking of the shaking small form of his manservant, as he slowly lay dying in Gaius' quarters, Arthur knew it was a price he would be willing to pay.

"Yes."

* * *

_In Which the Alternate Title For This Episode is Revealed: _

_In Which a Magical Cougar on the Loose Attempts to Seduce, While All the While, Bayard's Uncouth_


	6. In Which Arthur Learns a Pretty Signific

_In Which the Author Delivers a Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin; the only gain I get from this is practice in writing._

* * *

**Chapter Six: In Which Arthur Learns a Pretty Significant Truth About His Favorite Idiot  
**

* * *

Arthur arrived at Gaius' chambers feeling rather awkward about openly showing concern for his servant. Guinevere had sent the message that the Morteus flower had worked two days ago, but Arthur had been caught up in the diplomatic nightmares of Mercia and Bayard. Though the oath he had given his father meant there would be no backing out of the marriage, as he had done with Elena, Arthur wanted to brood over it with his manservant. Remembering the strange wisdom Myrddin had given about marrying Elena, and knowing the servant would not gossip about Arthur's doubts, the prince asked Gaius if he could speak with him. Gaius didn't comment on the prince's request to see Myrddin. He merely pointed Arthur back to Myrddin's bedroom, saying he was sleeping off the results of the sickness, but that the physician expected him to wake up shortly.

Myrddin did indeed wake up only a few minutes after Arthur's arrival. Before Arthur had time to get embarrassed that he was sitting at the servant's bedside, he launched into the matter weighing most heavily no his mind, part of him wondering when exactly Myrddin had become a confidant.

"I'm getting married."

"How long have I been unconscious?" Myrddin sputtered, sitting up in shock.

Arthur was puzzled by this non-sequitor. "You were poisoned six days ago."

"And given that you were almost assassinated, you thought now would be a good time to arrange a royal wedding? I assume that my being on my deathbed is the only reason that you didn't throw goblets at me to vent your frustration at impending matrimony? How did you find the time to woo a lady between running after flowers and dealing with the fallout in negotiations with Bayard?" Myrddin's tone was highly skeptical. But then a look of horror spread across his face. "Please tell me that you're not planning to elope, again? I really don't think I'm up to knocking you out and dragging you back for at least another week."

Arthur scowled at reminder of the fiasco with Sophia, while Merlin kept babbling. "Wait! Was it that serving girl Cara? She's pretty yes, but Gaius said-"

Arthur cut him off. "I'm not eloping _Myr_ddin. I'm marrying Princess Merlin of Powys."

Myrddin just stared at him frozen in shock and what Arthur judged to be a strange mixture of panic and confusion.

"Father's been pushing this alliance since before you arrived in Camelot. He has been particularly adamant since I almost eloped with Sophia, taking it as a sign that I was eager to marry. But I finally agreed to the match on the condition that I be permitted to go after the Morteus flower to save you."

Myrddin hadn't visibly reacted since his announcement of prospective bride, just sitting there and continuing to stare at him. It was slightly unnerving. In the uncomfortable silence, Arthur fell back to ribbing his servant.

"You know, I reckon you will have to learn how to knock once I'm married. Much as I appreciate your cheery hello in the morning, you're such a girl about seeing me in a state of undress that I can't even imagine your horror at walking in when I was in bed with my wife."

Finally, Myrddin reacted, though not at all how Arthur expected. He started laughing, harder than Arthur had ever known him to do. Noting the slightly hysterical edge to it, he worried that perhaps Myrddin was sicker than he or Gaius had realized.

"So, you'll agree to knocking, then?"

Myrddin stopped laughing and looked him in the eye. "Arthur, if you indeed marry Princess Merlin, you will never have to worry about me interrupting your time with your wife, regardless of whether I knock on the door."

At Arthur's dubious look, Myrddin took a deep breath, and dived under his blanket, completely out of view. Though his body was completely hidden from the prince's sight, Arthur could hear Myrddin mumbling under his breath. Thinking this must be some madness induced by his recent poisoning, Arthur was about to summon Gaius, or at least pull the blanket back, when Myrddin reemerged.

Whereas before there had been raven colored hair, cropped fairly short, Myrddin's hair was suddenly waist length and more brown than black. In the light coming from the window, it even had a reddish tint. The hair had a wild, uncombed air to it, as if it had been unceremoniously stuffed away, which, Arthur reflected, it clearly had been. With it hanging around the manservant's face, that visage itself looked different, more feminine. What only a moment before would have been entirely ludicrous, was now an undeniable fact. Myrddin was a woman.

"Because I'm Princess Merlin."

Arthur stared. This was Princess Merlin? A part of his brain almost absently noted that while Merlin did not have the sleek beauty of Morgana, there was something strangely appealing about the naturalness of her hair and form. She wasn't arrayed to impress or beguile; she simply was.

But those thoughts were soon drowned out by the implications that the man he had come to trust, the man that he had just saved, the man he had repeatedly pummeled on the training grounds, was the woman he was supposed to marry.

"What the hell?"

"Believe me, I find this situation just as uncomfortable as you do."

"I seriously doubt that. I made you go on dangerous patrols with the knights. I threw you in the dungeons," Arthur said, thinking back to when he had first met Myrddin. More horrifying memories occurred to him. "I, I _bathed_ in front of you. This is a nightmare."

"Let me explain!" Merlin entreated. Her voice came out a couple tones higher than Arthur was accustomed to.

"This had better be a very good explanation, one which I'm sure that my father is most anxious to hear." Arthur grabbed at her wrist, intending to drag her to the council chambers. "I'm sure he'll be delighted that you are here to accept the marriage in person, though given that we'll be the laughing stock for hiring a lady to be my manservant, he might not be so eager to go through with the match. What were your parents thinking?" Arthur raged.

Merlin had jumped out the other side of the bed while he was talking, taking a stance in front of the closed door.

"My parents know nothing of my being here. I was quietly exiled for refusing to marry you months ago. My parents think I am staying in a small village with my childhood nurse, until I come to my senses, or they decide to force the match anyway." Merlin gave a sheepish shrug. "I swear: my ending up as your manservant was an unforeseen, bizarre accident."

Arthur had stalked towards her, pausing only a few feet away. With his arms crossed, he stood regarding her with a thoughtful expression. It made a certain sort of sense; the secret exile of the princess would account for the sudden cessation of negotiations on Powys' side a month or so before Myrddin's arrival.

"So as an exiled princess you thought, hey, I think I'll go to Camelot, see the sights, lie about who I am, call the prince a prat? All in a good days work as a noblewoman?"

"Well, I didn't exactly plan on the part where I called you a prat. That was entirely due to your charming behavior. Of course I didn't know that it was you at the time…"

Arthur was angry at the deception, but remembering Myrddin's confused and slightly panicked face when Arthur had announced that he was going to marry Merlin, he saw what had been so funny. He soon was laughing so hard that he had to sit down on the bed. After a moment, Merlin chuckled weakly along with him. Merlin was the first to speak when they finally were silent.

"So what do we do now? I know your father thinks I'm an idiot anyway, but I doubt his opinion of me will improve with this revelation. And my parents!" Merlin groaned, collapsing into the seat Arthur had vacated a few minutes ago, staring determinedly at her knees.

"Who does know that you are here?" Arthur asked, his mind conjuring up different strategies for avoiding a political mess.

"In Camelot itself? Just Gaius. My old nurse, who I stayed with at the beginning my banishment, and her son are the only others."

"I agreed to the marriage on my part six days ago," Arthur murmured contemplatively. "Given the fiasco with Mercia and my absence from the court, I think it unlikely the official ambassador to Powys would be prepared to leave before tomorrow, at the earliest. It takes a week to reach Powys. How far away is the village you supposedly are sequestered away at?"

"Ealdor is two days from Camelot. And five from Powys," Merlin contributed.

"Then you should have plenty of time to make it back to Ealdor before you are sent for. Given that you have just recently fallen so ill, it would not be unreasonable for Myrddin to seek to return to his home village for a longer cooperation. Gaius could say that your illness is more serious than he had suspected."

"But given that the prince himself risked his life for this servant, if it is more serious, why would you send a sick man alone on a days long journey to a different kingdom?" Merlin objected.

"True. And getting you back to Ealdor in time will prove tricky, even if we are lucky that Ealdor is closer to Camelot than Powys. But your sickness would prove a reasonable alibi for Myrddin's disappearance. Your hair is so different, and I'm sure that in a dress," Arthur trailed off, wondering what his manservant would look like when attired like a woman. He couldn't picture it. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I'm sure that no one will connect Myrddin with Merlin."

"Must I disappear?" Merlin wondered. Arthur looked at her incredulously. She continued, "I've just enjoyed having the anonymity, and being able to, you know, do things, like hunting..."

"You are terrible at hunting! You scare away all the game," Arthur interjected.

Merlin continued unfazed, "…swing maces when you are being a prat…"

"I won that fight!"

"…choose the best food from the cooks, and nick my favorite bits from your plate…"

"Hey wait a minute! You've been stealing my food all this time?" Arthur's rant brought Merlin's attention back to the conversation they were having. "You are undoubtedly the worst manservant I have ever had!"

"Admit it, you'll miss Myrddin," Merlin challenged. In a quieter voice, "I'll miss Myrddin. You know, you're really not so bad once one gets past that big head of yours."

"It's not like you'll never see me again. Assuming we can get rid of Myrddin and return you to your natural attire, you'll be seeing me every day for the rest of your life!"

"It's not the same and you know it! When Merlin arrives, it will be all court etiquette and polite distance. Will you even throw insults at me or goblets when I wake you up too early or take me with you when you fight bandits or even joke about taking me to a tavern? No! You'll get some other manservant to talk to and I'll not even have the friendship of Gaius, or Gwen, or or Bert!" Merlin cried passionately.

Arthur didn't know who Bert was, but he did think about Myrddin's presence in his life. When had Myrddin become the friend who he brought along on his every journey? He had never been so attached to his other servants. And she was right; the type of adventures he would have with her would really become very different. But there was no way that he could have Myrddin and marry Merlin, was there?

"Myrddin, I won't deny that I've grown…accustomed to your idiotic mannerisms, but you simply can't fulfill the duties of both manservant and wife. You'd be expected to be seen at the same time in the same places," Arthur pointed out. Merlin was silent for a moment before her eyes lit up.

"I know I couldn't be your regular manservant, but what if I was a sort of part time servant? I could occasionally be seen helping you, and you would still have me go on hunts and patrols. The rest of the time I could be assumed to have taken on more chores for Gaius. If Gaius explained that he needed me to go on trips of research or, or herb gathering or something, my duty to my 'uncle' could explain why I was no longer your full time manservant, and not regularly wandering the castle."

Arthur contemplated this rather extraordinary idea. It was entirely mad and most certainly unconventional, but could he really expect any less from the person who boldly proclaimed him a royal ass in a crowded marketplace and had never had much use for the rules of royalty? Gaius was getting older, and Myrddin had arrived with the intention of being his ward, before being roped into being a manservant. He grinned at Merlin.

"That's crazy enough it just might work. But that still doesn't solve the issue that in a few days your parents will be expecting you to be in Ealdor. I admit, the idea of you traveling alone for two days into another kingdom after nearly dying is a bit worrisome. Short of telling my father, I'm not certain how we'll manage this."

They sat in silence again. Arthur reflected back on the absurdity of this evening. Was he really planning on allowing his future bride to continue to masquerade as his manservant? On the other hand, many of the bewildering inanities of Myrddin were certainly explicable in light of her background and gender.

Merlin interrupted his musings. "What if I don't make it to Ealdor? My parents were upset that I refused to even countenance the marriage, and will likely be surprised at so firm an offer from Camelot after these months. I went to Ealdor in disguise as a peasant boy with their approval. What if I told them that I had snuck to Camelot in the same guise to meet you? This would account for not only the offer, but my surprising compliance with it. When they come to Camelot, couldn't I sneak out of the city and meet up with them before they arrive?"

This seemed overly complicated in many ways, but at the same time, it would solve the whole Ealdor mess. "But won't they bring this up to my father? And it is one thing to send your only daughter into exile as a boy, for her own protection. It is an entirely different matter to find that she's the prince's personal servant. Are you really planning on telling them that you regularly helped me dress?"

"We'll make up a different explanation for how you and I met. They don't need to know that I've been in Camelot for months. Let them think that this is a recent development."

And that is how Arthur found himself engaged in a mad scheme of duplicity and disguise. Gaius would go to Uther in a few days and explain that he felt he needed more of Myrddin's time and aid as his ward. Arthur would go to Uther tomorrow, asking if he could send a personal missive to the king and queen of Powys along with the official proposal, ostensibly to be sending overtures in his own name, but in reality to tell them a wild tale of rescuing their daughter in a tavern and relaying the plan to sneak Merlin to them when they neared, if they would be so good as to bring her royal garments. And Merlin would send a letter to Hunith conveying all of this, should King Cyngen seek to verify the story with her.

* * *

To Merlin's great surprise, once the fervor of necessary activity surrounding the engagement had died down, she found she was greatly desirous of the company of the Great Dragon. It was still a bit puzzling to Merlin how two events she had feared and so assiduously tried to avoid—namely her certain engagement to Arthur and his discovering her identity—had happened concurrently and with very little fanfare. While she hadn't been at all prepared for the turn of events, she had watched the ease with which it had all worked out and had been very grateful. Already she was rapidly adjusting to her temporary new routine, only serving as manservant four mornings a week. But it left her with a lot more spare time than she was used to, and now she was at a bit of a loose end, double questioning and triple questioning the course of action, though of course by this point there was little to be done but to follow through.

And so early one morning she found herself perched upon the ledge of the cavernous home of the last dragon and actually looking forward to the uniform comfort of aphoristic and stuffy riddles the dragon so consistently delivered alongside the bits of actually useful advice she sought him for.

Though Merlin still hadn't worked out how precisely the dragon got all of his information of the outside world (only that he did have some swift and accurate means of attaining this knowledge; the dragon had called to her (with her real name no less) her first day in Camelot), but there was clearly a fairly fool proof method he employed and he thus seemed a bit confused as to why exactly she was there. There was no impending magical threat to precipitate her needing advice.

Merlin perched her head on her knees, and asked, "When we first met, you told me that it was my destiny to protect Arthur. I've been wondering, isn't that a little backwards? I mean he is the knight in shining armor—and I know precisely how it gets to be shining—and I was just thinking, maybe you misinterpreted destiny."

"And would you have been content merely being the damsel in distress?" the dragon asked with a chuckle. "No, you have a place far larger than merely being the lady of the piece. You are called to a different path than others born to your rank."

"Ahah!" Merlin said, switching arguments immediately. "I'm not supposed to be the damsel. I'm perfectly content with making Arthur's armor shine like a true knight's, and going along on the rescue missions, watching his back. So clearly, I'm not supposed to do anything really princesslike, like marry him, am I?"

The dragon chuckled again. "You and the young Pendragon stand side by side in the long line of time."

But Merlin wasn't one to be discouraged easily. "But I am standing by his side, as Myrddin. Really, I should just tell Arthur that we can't get married. I need to be there to protect him."

"And you will, Merlin, you will. You and Arthur together are the making of a great legacy, but only when appearances are as true as they seem, when what you dream is what others see."

Merlin huffed in frustration. "But what if what I dream is that I never marry Arthur?"

"You already promised to follow a certain path, young witch," the dragon said as it flew off. 'Well, at least he won't be treating me any differently,' Merlin thought as she climbed back to the main passageways. 'I hate riddles.'

* * *

Marriage was on the mind of the Powys monarchs before the epistle arrived from Camelot. Merlin's surprising interest in other ladies of her rank, evidenced by her question about Elena of Gawant and Rhodri, had been a pleasant surprise to the rulers. Rhodri had noted, with amusement, that his parents completely ignored that she also saw fit to spend a good third of the parchment of the recent letter on a tale about the dangers of arranged marriage. No, the king and queen had instead focused all their attention on the values of making an alliance with Gawant and Camelot, and that Merlin had apparently seen the benefit of political matchmaking.

Into such a private council meeting, where the latest missive from Godwin was being discussed, a Camelotian messenger, his red cloak proudly declaring his official mission, appeared. The sight was so similar to Rhodri's first memory of anything to do with Camelot, that he found himself ruminating once more on that long ago event.

Rhodri always associated magic with Camelot, though not in the same way most did. In the unreliable, hazy recollections that made up his earliest recollections, Rhodri recalled a glorious feast held in honor of his fifth birthday.

To him the memory started out in that innocent happiness of childhood, though later experiences and history lessons provided the true state of affairs and he knew that the world then was not so simple, that magic users were as likely or unlikely to be criminal as anyone else. But at the time, he could only describe in delight the sorcerer who had come, along with a minstrel and troubadour to entertain at the feast. There had been singing, and dancing, but when the storytelling had started, magic had begun.

As the story began to unfold, magical shapes, conjured from the smoke of all the candles, weaved in and out, as puppets attending to the piece.

Just as the story of a dragon and his dragon lord was reaching its climax, where the defense of the kingdom was most tested, the feast had been interrupted. A messenger had come from Camelot with the grave news that Queen Ygraine had delivered an heir, but had shortly after been killed by evil enchantments.

There was a lot of commotion, and the young prince, displeased that his adventurous tale had been curtailed, was disgruntled as the sorcerer was lead away by some of his father's guards.

Before that day, Rhodri didn't know much about Camelot. But he could still see, all these years later, the smoky dragon of the tale disappear as a man bearing a scarlet and gold dragon crest walked through it.

He knew know that the man had been no mere messenger, but an official ambassador of King Uther. For in the two weeks since the queen had died, a magical purge had been ordered. To Uther's close allies, he had sent the message that he would no longer tolerate magic, the same twisted magic that had killed his wife. He had already begun to kill all those with magic and demanded, in essence, unity in stopping this evil.

Powys' purge had been less exacting than Uther's, more once-magical people allowed to live and retain their lands and fortunes if they pledged to renounce magic and swear fealty to the king. Young Rhodri had not understood this, only that there was no resolution for the dragon and dragon lord, that the fabled battle for the citadel of the legend was never won or lost. And that one of the trusted attendants of the king, the dark haired one who had given Rhodri a carved dragon on his birthday had soon after left Powys, his wife, and child, and wasn't seen again.

The ambassador who had come looked so similar to the one of his memory that he almost could see the smoke dragon of the story the first man had stepped through. The news this ambassador brought along was similarly about alliance, and similarly surprising. Uther had written proposing a most definitive and immediate marriage between his son and their daughter.

His mother turned to his father, once the ambassador had been led to guest quarters while the family privately discussed the situation. "Do you think that Merlin will comply, Cyngen?" she asked worriedly. She looked down at the paper again. "Uther would like to complete the ceremony within a month. Do you think that we can fetch Merlin and persuade her to do her duty in that amount of time?"

But the king had seen the second letter, this one from the prince. He opened it and began to read.

The reactions of the room were almost comical. Bertha had paled, Cadall had looked appalled, and Rhodri had only barely contained his laughter. He looked over at his father, curious to see what his father thought of the news, but just as quickly had to look away. Both men had exchanged one of those wordless communications. They had met eyes, and knowing that both wanted to laugh, had quickly looked away from each other. Merlin's compliance was apparently not going to be a problem. Arthur had written saying that he'd rescued the girl in question, whilst she was posing as Myrddin, when she was drunk in a tavern. He'd discovered the girl's identity and had stepped in to prevent any scandal. He further wrote that under the circumstances, Merlin had expressed no objections to marrying. He wrote that if they would bring Merlin's things, he'd sneak Myrddin out of the city to where they were waiting and no one would be the wiser. Merlin was just full of surprises these days.

* * *

Every once in a while, usually following a particularly fierce diatribe from Uther on his matrimonial state, Arthur had thought about what his future wife would be like. After finding out that he was marrying his manservant, this became a much more pressing weight on his mind. Gaius had gone to Uther, saying he needed Myrddin's help more frequently, and that the servant needed to recover. So his interactions with the boy—girl—had been limited but Arthur noted, secretly appalled, that the boy remained unchanged. He remained clumsy and insolent, hinted that the upcoming tournament to welcome the future princess was ridiculous, and still walked into his room without knocking.

Sometimes Arthur was positive that the scene in Gaius' quarters, where Myrddin pulled off his wig to reveal long curly hair, was a dream. The only time Myrddin acted like things had impossibly changed between them was one evening, about a week after the epistle had been sent to Powys, while they were waiting for a response. Assuming the proposal was accepted, the marriage would likely take place in less than a month.

Arthur was busy in his chambers, looking over some minutia of state when a timid knock came at his door. Arthur called a welcome, breaking his concentration to look at who it was. To his shock, it was Myrddin.

"You knocked?" he asked in surprise. "You actually waited for permission to enter?" The prince focused on his manservant, noting that the boy (girl) actually looked nervous about something. Myrddin didn't say anything for a few moments, instead pacing a bit around his room before finally sitting down in one of the chairs near him.

"Look, we're going to be married in a few weeks, and I don't know, I guess I feel that maybe we should talk about it. Or something. I just feel like there are things remaining unsaid, and I'm babbling, but," she paused. Arthur just smirked at her, taking comfort in her discomfort. "When Princess Merlin shows up, we have to both react a certain way. Are we going to play it straight, 'we've never met before'," Merlin lent a little false pomposity and overacting to the words, "or are we going to try to make it obvious to my father, but not yours, that we have met, in a more 'it's you, I mean, I've never seen this prince before in my life'?" Merlin's words had taken a high girly voice at the latter scenario. Myrddin tugged at 'his' neckerchief whilst waiting for his reply.

Arthur listened, appreciating the web of deception that this whole arrangement was bringing up and continued to be surprised that such an idiot like Myrddin could keep the act up so well. "We had best pretend to simply never have met. After all, I haven't met you acting like a proper member of court." Myrddin nodded in understanding and got up to leave.

"That's it? That's all you really wanted to talk about before we get married in a few weeks?" Arthur asked in disbelief. He had been relieved that the servant had brought up the subject and wasn't about to just let it end all of the sudden.

"What else is there to talk about? You know I'm really a girl. And your betrothed. Merlin will appear in a few weeks to do the official court stuff and I'll still be your favorite manservant on days when I'm bored with being a noble." And with a cheeky, wide grin, the manservant skipped out of the chambers.

And that was all Arthur got out of Myrddin about matrimony, romance, or royalty until it was time for the pair to sneak Myrddin out of the city.

* * *

"You know, I've been thinking," Merlin stated three weeks later as she and Arthur rode out of the city secretly to meet the party from Powys. Officially Myrddin, having so valiantly risked his life for the prince's, was taking a brief vacation.

"That must have been painful," Arthur supplied.

Myrddin paid him no heed. "I've been thinking that you, my lord, are turning out to be a secret romantic."

"What?" Arthur sputtered.

"Indeed," Merlin said seriously. "You save a fair damsel from bandits in the forest, and next thing I know, you're eloping with her. When that plague struck, and I tried to defend Gwen from being accused of sorcery, your immediate defense of my frankly idiotic move was to declare that I must be in love. What man save a secret poet would conclude it was love so quickly?" Merlin spoke triumphantly.

Arthur was ready to mount a defense, but was sidetracked by Merlin's mention of Guinevere. All the signs for an affair between the two servants had been there; Myrddin sporting a flower given by Gwen, the fact that they always stood together at feasts, that Gwen had sat in Gaius' chambers when Merlin had been poisoned. Indeed Morgana had assumed the exact same thing, and had urged him to cooperate in uniting the two servants. Of course, knowing what he did now, he finally believed Myrddin's assertions that he was not in love with the girl.

"I may have been wrong that you loved her, but she clearly likes you," Arthur said.

"I know." Myrddin's voice was rather glum. "I swear I didn't realize though until she kissed me."

"What? When?"

"When I finally woke up after you delivered the flower. Which brings me to my original thought: you're first act after swearing to the king that you would marry me was to race across the land on a horse, braving dangers, fighting cockatrices, facing an evil sorceress, all to bring me a _flower_. How can you be classed as anything but a romantic?"

* * *

Rhodri was amusing himself, whilst under a tree near the designated relay point of passing Merlin to the Powys party, by imagining what sort of shenanigans his little sister had gotten into in the six months since he'd seen her. Though Merlin had always been one to attract trouble, meeting her future husband in a tavern while dressed up as a boy had to be a new highlight for her. Ever since he'd learned of it, Rhodri had tried to assimilate in his mind the discrepancies inspired by Cadall's account of an arrogant prince with the sort of prince who, when meeting his future bride in disguise, in a _tavern_, not only still wanted to marry her, but arranged it in the most tactful of ways to avoid her becoming embarrassed. He was not doomed to wait for long, because soon enough he heard voices approaching.

Though he had seen the Myrddin disguise before his little sister left, it was still quite a shock to see the dark wig and the lithe form of his sister in trousers. Even stranger was the argument the two boys, people, seemed to be having.

"…anything but a romantic?" his little sister had said triumphantly, urging her horse forward a bit more.

The blond kept pace with the princess, retorting heatedly, "I only did that to save your life, which I wouldn't have done if you hadn't idiotically insisted on having that drink!"

Rhodri smiled. He had suspected that there was a bit more to the story than the letter implied. He jumped up from the ground to meet the two approaching royals, calling their attention to him.

Merlin immediately hopped off the horse, and loped over to him in the most graceless walk he had ever seen on her. She even tripped on the way over but seemed to recover herself rather quickly. She gave her brother a big hug before turning around to introduce the two boys, even though it was fairly obvious that each knew who the other was.

"Nice to see you do have some manners," Arthur said in an aside to Merlin. Rhodri watched in disbelief as Merlin seemed entirely unfazed, retorting rather quickly herself.

"Don't be a prat; I am a perfectly proper princess."

"I'll believe that when I see it, or do you not remember how you introduced yourself?"

Rhodri was dying for more details on how Merlin had behaved away from court, and was happy that they continued their discussion. Merlin said, "I believe that I was actually the polite one in that conversation. As you may recall I called you 'friend'."

"Yes. You were entirely polite, right up to the moment you called me an ass," Arthur said.

Rhodri made a choked sound at that. His sister had what? But his noise had reawakened the two to his presence and that interesting tidbit was not elaborated upon.

Arthur left them soon after, and Rhodri and Merlin were left to catch up. Merlin could hardly contain her laughter when he revealed that the flippant note she had sent her parents about possibly arranging a wedding between Rhodri and the Lady Elena was starting to bear fruit, and that it would likely actually occur.

For his part, Rhodri wanted to hear more details about the mysterious Camelot adventure, but Merlin was being rather closed mouthed when it came to specifics. But he was convinced of one thing; the prince and princess knew each other better than the letter had let on. And that led Rhodri to ask himself, just how long had his sister been in Camelot?

* * *

Even long anticipated changes are still changes and Morgana sat at her window resenting the one that would be arriving in the morning. She'd been surprised when Uther had announced that at long last the prince would be taking a bride, and had greatly enjoyed gloating over Arthur's capitulation. But as the arrival of Powys' princess drew nearer, Morgana couldn't help feel a small amount of trepidation about something ending.

It wasn't jealousy about Arthur; she'd known for years that she didn't want to marry Arthur, though she did enjoy making him squirm from time to time. No, it was change that was making her uneasy, jealousy that this newcomer could destroy her life as she knew it. What if this Merlin thought herself more important than Morgana? Would she stop Arthur's squabbling with her? What if she disapproved of the brash but friendly and loyal Myrddin? What if she expected Morgana to fawn over her, seeking to monopolize all her time and attention?

It wasn't sensible or in any way rational, but by next morning, every possible disagreeable thing that the young bride could be had run through Morgana's mind. By the time she and the rest of the court were assembled and waiting for when all the pomp and circumstance Powys' arrival would start, Morgana had in her mind the picture of the odious, simpering, selfish creature that was sure to be Princess Merlin.

The group arrived in due course, and of course Morgana kept a sharp eye out for the princess. After King Cyngen and Queen Bertha had been greeted by King Uther, and after the introduction of Prince Rhodri, the lady at last stepped forward.

There was nothing really remarkable about the way she behaved as she was introduced. Unlike Elena's introduction that had been memorable in its awkwardness, Merlin's was exactly what one expected of a princess. She said everything she was supposed to, curtsied precisely how and when she should.

Having deduced all that she felt she could from this brief meeting, Morgana took the opportunity to observe how Arthur was reacting to the entirely unremarkable bride before him. He was staring, disbelieving, at the sight of the princess. Morgana looked back at the girl, eying her critically. The princess was neither as ugly as she had been hoping, nor was she breathtakingly beautiful. If pressed, Morgana would have to admit she was pretty. But she saw nothing that warranted the expression of amazed shock on Arthur's face. She'd have to keep an eye out for new developments.

Over the next few days, Morgana saw no reason to change her initial assessment of Merlin, yet Arthur seemed astounded at the most trivial of remarks that the other lady made. Morgana was confused when Merlin's obviously feigned admiration of all the best outlooks of the city was met with suppressed laughter on both of the princes' parts. Every banal sentence was met with astonishment and Morgana simply couldn't understand such behavior. Arthur had never been as impressed with the far more sophisticated and witty comments she herself had made. True, Arthur had quickly become enamored with the murderess Sophia, but she'd at least been a damsel in distress, which was frequently said to be appealing to men. But that description certainly didn't fit Merlin, so Arthur's amazement at the utterly commonplaceness of Merlin continued to puzzle her.

* * *

There is nothing quite so difficult as having to fake a first impression, as Merlin was finding much to her chagrin. After five months in Camelot, she was suddenly expected to act as if she had never been there before. If Merlin had given this particular matter much forethought (which being a rather impudent and rash sort of person, she hadn't), she would have said that her familiarity with the citadel wouldn't be a problem; she'd find time to 'explore' the city, thus explaining away any improbable knowledge she should display.

But that was before meddling fathers made the plans for their respective children and ward; Merlin, Morgana, Arthur, and Rhodri were all supposed to bond over a tour of the city.

This led to the current problem: Merlin's impression of her new home. Arthur, of course, was in on the secret and had no delusions over how well Myrddin knew the city. Along with Rhodri (who expected Merlin to display some familiarity, though he had no idea as to the extent of her knowledge), he was finding Merlin's faked enthusiasm extremely hilarious.

Morgana, however, was quite visibly becoming less and less impressed with Merlin. Oh, she remained perfectly cordial, but there was a hint of disapproval in her eye that any who knew her well would be able to see (and after four months of knowing Morgana, Merlin did indeed know her fairly well). It pained Merlin that she was giving such a bad impression, but she kept on stumbling over herself. It was like having a stutter, which only becomes worse when others call attention to it. Arthur and Rhodri kept smirking at each other with every metaphorical stumble, leaving Merlin to self-consciously try to backtrack and only ending up tripping even more.

It was the same in the marketplace, the marketplace Merlin had been haggling and shopping at for months. Morgana pointed out the diverse wares of the citizens of Camelot. Desperately trying to come across as agreeable, Merlin said,

"Oh, yes, I have always admired the-," cue anxious looks from the two males which caused Merlin to realize what she was saying, "—the abundance of peasants." All three were looking at her askance, "In a marketplace." A snort from one of the males, a look of disguised disgust from the lady, and the tour continued.

Until the battlements. Merlin recognized this as one of the places Arthur liked to go when he was overseeing training practice with the knights mostly unaware. "I've always found this a nice place to admire kni-," she stopped herself, "grass and flowers. Battlements are nice for admiring foliage."

And so it continued. Merlin felt required to make a pronouncement upon every sight (since the other two lived here and Rhodri only had to make a politic compliment sporadically). Eventually Merlin became more comfortable with not revealing her foreknowledge, but then a new issue occurred.

She started insulting Arthur. It was an easy enough mistake to make, seeing as Arthur was still his normal patronizing self and it was second nature. But if she wanted to keep Myrddin a secret from Morgana, she couldn't call the prince a prat. Which led to this exchange.

"Our knights are heralded as some of the finest defenders among the five principal kingdoms," Arthur was saying. Rhodri was willing and able to defend their own knights' legacy, but Merlin automatically responded.

"And they all owe it to the great prat—prattling of the Camelot prince. Your reputation for...agility precedes you." Merlin turned away from the incredulous look of Arthur's face, not even daring to see how Morgana had taken the latest blunder. She wanted to run away and never go on another tourist trap of a tour again, but they still had half a town to see. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Merlin slipped away from wedding preparations and treaty signings her third official day in Camelot. She could always protest that the journey had fatigued her greatly if anyone asked where she had gone. And so, making sure that there was no one else around, Merlin let herself into Gaius' quarters.

The physician returned from his rounds a few minutes later. He smiled at her. Merlin gratefully returned the smile, glad that here at least she wasn't going to be starting over with everyone.

"Merlin, so nice to see you," the physician said, setting down his packages and taking a seat at the table.

"I can't do it Gaius. I just can't do it. They are throwing a tournament tomorrow in my honor. I have to sit through it! No slipping out to fetch something for Arthur, or just take advantage of his occupation to read or sleep, or anything. I have to watch him hit people over and over again with a sword. And you know who I'll sympathize with? The people he is hitting. I know how much that hurts. And what if there is another knight like Valiant? How am I supposed to help him now, when I'm stuck in the stands?"

Gaius chuckled, amused at the state Merlin was working herself up into.

"Perhaps now you will realize how cautious you really do need to be about your magic, Merlin. You've been lucky so far, but that is sure to run out eventually." At Merlin's still unhappy expression, Gaius continued, "You never liked polishing that armor anyway. What is really the matter?"

"What if nobody likes Merlin?" the princess finally confessed. "Before I never worried about it, because I didn't have to be here, but now? I know I'm not as glamorous as Morgana, nor as sweet as Guinevere, and Arthur's been excessively polite. It's weird. I go to insult him and then I realize I can't. So I just mumble something inane. Seriously, I think he got along better with Elena when she still was part Sidhe!"

Gaius hardly knew how to handle this new emotion. Merlin had always been so confident about all of her choices. More than that she had proven absolutely fearless (and absolutely nosy) with the way she ran head first into every possible danger. This Merlin reminded him painfully of when he'd been cleaning up Myrddin from the mace fight that first day, and he'd found out her identity. She had asked about her magic, and then asked if he thought she was a monster.

"I doubt things are as bad as that, Merlin," Gaius assured. "It will take some time for everyone to get to know you, but it took time when you first arrived, and look at how well you get along with Arthur now?"

It didn't seem to comfort Merlin as much as Gaius hoped, so he switched topics. In the few days that Myrddin had been gone, Gaius had missed having an energetic young life always about. It was undoubtedly quieter without her, but Gaius found he was missing the noise. Casting about for something not related to Arthur, Gaius asked about seeing her family again.

"It's been lovely," Merlin said. "Mother is so pleased that I finally agreed to marry Arthur, do my duty, as it were, that they have almost entirely overlooked that I claimed to have met him in the Rising Sun."

"_Almost_ overlooked it?" Gaius questioned.

"They've brought me their own hand-selected handmaiden. She's blonde, a bit younger than me, incredibly proper, not the sort to encourage any more 'drunken escapades'," Merlin said. Gaius chuckled. It was plain that Merlin was not appreciating having a servant to check her mad impulses. He was curious to see who would win this war: the servant in getting Merlin to act in complete decorum, or the princess in getting the maid to accept Merlin's irregularities as normal. In the similar battle that had been waged between Myrddin and Arthur, Myrddin had clearly had her way, still insulting the prince at will. Arthur insulted back, but had ceased telling Myrddin that that was not how he was to be addressed.

Merlin and Gaius enjoyed the hour relieved from their duties, grateful that with everything else changing, there was one thing that hadn't.

As Merlin returned to her temporary guest quarters—she would not be given her permanent chambers until after the wedding, because, in the custom of all of the nobility, husband and wife lived in separate but neighboring rooms, a connecting door between them—she was pounced on, before she had hardly completely stepped inside, by the blonde whirlpool of decorum and deportment known as Sevryn.

"My lady, we must begin to prepare you immediately for the feast tonight," Sevryn began. "We have only a few hours now to fix your hair..." Merlin sighed. Servitude was much easier to get used to than having servants.

* * *

Yet another tournament was about to begin, this one in honor of Princess Merlin and the upcoming marriage. This was to be the moment of presenting Merlin to Camelot, as only the most senior officials and courtiers had been present at her introduction to the royal family. Merlin was on the dais, behind some drapes, waiting for Uther to start the competition and present her.

It was strange to be caught up in this type of pageantry again, yet, much as Merlin tried to deny it, there was a certain thrill to the events unfolding. Neither king was sparing the expense at making this a lavish occasion and the girl found herself caught up in the elegance and fuss of her wedding, even as she simultaneously dreaded it a bit.

At last Merlin heard King Uther begin his introduction about how this was a time of even greater unity and peace between their kingdoms. "And now I present to Camelot, its future queen, the Lady Merlin of Powys!"

At the clapping that ensued, the curtains were swept back and taking her father's proffered hand, Merlin stepped onto the dais proper. She could see all the knights in the field, half arrayed in the bold scarlet of Camelot, half in the deep blue of Powys. Merlin's dress was fittingly neither color, being instead an elegant purple, the cloth mixing the two kingdom's colors together to make one alliance, another symbolic show. Of all the royals on the dais, she was the only one thus colored, a perfect mix of her old kingdom and her new one, and so attention was focused even more sharply on her. She gave the appropriate gracious smile and sat down in the elegant chair provided for her.

For this auspicious occasion Merlin was given the central seat of honor, King Uther to one side, King Cyngen to another. To complete this symmetry, Queen Bertha graced her king's immediate side, while Morgana mirrored the position on Uther's right. The knights competing were an assorted match of Powys and Camelot, with the respective kingdom's princes also among the ranks. Once settled Merlin had only to look gracious, and the tournament began.

To Merlin's great surprise, she was actually able to enjoy it, drawn in by the enthusiasm all around her. Both kings were deeply interested in the proceedings, both cheering for their own sons, who were unseating all their opponents. If Rhodri and Arthur continued at the rate they had jousted at thus far, the two would soon face each other.

Merlin found herself torn between whether she wanted Rhodri or Arthur to win the tournament. Familial solidarity would normally dictate she cheer on her brother, but months of polishing Arthur's armor had given her a certain measure of attachment to its continued victory. Besides she'd have to deal with Arthur's annoyance at losing longer than she'd have to endure Rhodri's. She was decided; she'd hope Arthur would win.

* * *

Out on the arena in the line-up of knights, all waiting to hear their kings welcome them to the tournament, two princes found themselves standing next to each other. Still holding their stances, they started to quietly converse.

"Merlin was in to wish me luck before the tournament, and she said the most interesting thing," Prince Rhodri said to Prince Arthur.

"Merlin has been known to say all manner of things, interesting or irritating," the prince replied.

"Yes, she commented on the quality of my hauberk. When she left Camelot she understood nothing about armor; I'm sure she barely knew it was called a helmet."

"You're telling me. I'm surprised she knew it was called a sword."

Right then, King Uther started welcoming everyone to this festival, held in honor of 'the future queen of Camelot, the lady Merlin!'

A loud cheer rose through the crowd as Merlin was revealed to have been standing behind a curtain.

"How does Merlin come to know so much about armor these days?" Rhodri asked.

Arthur replied in his most reasonable tone, giving confidence to the inherent misguidance in the statement. "She was in Camelot disguised as a boy, and I'm a knight. It seemed a logical thing to talk about. And her complete ignorance was rather appalling." Rhodri nodded. Arthur wasn't sure whether the prince was suspicious or merely curious about Myrddin's time in Camelot. Considering how bad Myrddin was with all things knightly, Arthur decided it would be a great joke if armor was the thing that gave the secret up.

* * *

The morning after the tournament concluded, Arthur was woken by his new manservant, Bern, who said, in slow, precise tones, that his ceremonial outfit was readied.

Arthur had almost forgotten it, but this was indeed his wedding day. It was quite different from the day a few months ago when he thought he'd be marrying Elena. For one thing, his servant was on time, but as Bern handed him his ceremonial sword he didn't have any advice, certainly not the surprisingly profound speech about destiny that Myrddin had sprouted on the occasion.

Courtiers anxiously tittered and chatted as Arthur entered the room, taking his place near Geoffrey of Monmouth. But the room fell silent as the great doors opened and Merlin appeared.

Arthur was still not used to this side of the manservant, the serious, graceful side, but as she swept towards him on her father's arm she gave him a nervous little smile. He smiled in return, but his throat was dry.

Now that the moment was upon him, he remembered the words he'd used to stop the ceremony with Elena, and the assurances he had given Uther when he refused this marriage months before, that he wanted to marry for love.

As he took Merlin's hand in his own, and Geoffrey started in on the speech, Arthur met the deep blue eyes ahead of him and wondered if his words would ring true, if this would indeed become an alliance of true affection.

But there was no way of knowing, so under the watchful eyes of all the court, Arthur and Merlin were wed.

* * *

Merlin fidgeted in her now new and permanent chambers. She and Arthur were now married and Merlin hardly knew what to expect from him now that they were husband and wife and not master and servant. Though arranged marriages with strangers was not an unknown quality of the nobility, she felt both grateful and cursed to have a sort of friendship with her husband. Would it make all the expectations of marital obligations more awkward for her than if she had only known the haughty man a few days?

Merlin shuddered at that. Knowing Arthur a little bit better proved that he wasn't always a prat and that he did do great and noble things at least part of the time. She would have hated to be facing this night if it were indeed the night after the first time she had met him. She vividly remembered sitting in the dungeons that night and quite cheerfully thinking that she would rather remain imprisoned than married to the prince.

The thought of her first days in Camelot and all the crazy adventures she had survived since calmed her somewhat and so by the time Arthur finally showed up at the chambers that were next to his,she was not the fidgeting bag of nerves she had been earlier.

Before the tension could ratchet up again, she realized that Arthur had not come empty handed. He brought with him a chess set. Looking in confusion at the game, she turned her attention to her new husband, who looked a little uncomfortable.

"Look, I know that we both know what is expected of us," Arthur stopped, clearly showing his usual discomfort with words for things he felt deeply. "Even though you are the most unconventional woman I have ever met, I well, that is to say…" He trailed off again. "I just thought that we could avoid rushing into uncomfortable waters and wondered if you would like to play chess instead of… just instead."

Merlin gave a blinding grin at Arthur. "I would love to play chess."

* * *

_In which the author has a few non narrative points: I love getting feedback, and was pleasantly surprised by the number of reviews, follows and favorites the story received after posting last chapter. I am glad many of you liked the twist in chapter five, and can only hope that chapter six lived up to expectations. Even if you absolutely hated what I did, and think that I have lost all sanity and plot interest by actually marrying them before they fall in love, I would love to hear that. Arranged marriages were rather common for the times (and even the show flirts with the idea in almost every season (as well as the actual legend having arranged marriages. In fact one Welsh legend has Arthur married three times, all to women named __Gwenhwyfar, though given how the Guinevere/Arthur union generally turns out, perhaps not a stunning champion for the cause)), and the dragon getting Merlin to agree to protect Arthur kind served the same function in the first episode, namely in drawing two desperate personalities together long enough for them to gain true bonds of friendship. So the real romance (and fun) is truly only just beginning. Please review!__  
_


	7. In Which New Arrivals and Newlyweds Inte

In Which There is a Disclaimer: This episode is based of BBC Merlin Season One Episode 5 "Lancelot". I do not own the episode, and anything you recognize from this chapter in terms of storyline or dialogue is taken from the show.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: In Which New Arrivals and Newlyweds Interact With Each Other in a Variety of Battles.**

* * *

At last it was time for Myrddin to make a reappearance. He'd been 'gone' for three weeks, visiting his mother and fully recovering from the last lingering fatigue of the poison in Ealdor. And now he was coming back to the drudgery of Arthur's socks and Gaius' leech tank.

Merlin grinned as she walked through the forest, close enough to see the turrets of Camelot. It had been a week and a half since she had married Arthur and she was grateful for the distraction being a servant would provide. That and she could have a normal conversation with Guinevere. The girl was so incredibly sweet, but a bit wary of 'Lady Merlin' and with Merlin having her own maidservant she could hardly requisition Morgana's all of the time. The new maidservant, Sevryn, was in and of itself an interesting situation. It had been six and a half months since Merlin had been waited on and it was almost uncomfortable having that obligation again. It would be nice to be on Myrddin's familiar ground. She'd even cheerfully muck out the stables if Arthur ordered her to.

Right then she heard a high pitched shrieking behind her and saw, in horror, that a large winged creature was racing towards her. Rapidly she began to run, but before she got more than three paces, she had tripped and fallen to the ground. She rolled onto her back, seeing the terrible creature right above her, when suddenly a someone dressed in blue had rushed forward and started attacking the creature with a sword.

The sword didn't do much to the beast, and eventually broke, but by that time Merlin had come to her senses. When the stranger landed next to her, she hardly needed his helping hand to get to her own feet and away they ran, that horrible shrieking keeping pace behind them.

In seemingly synchronized movements they jumped behind a log and Merlin watched in amazement as the monster flew away. But barely had introductions been made when Lancelot leaned back and groaned, clearly unwell. Merlin looked at the blood on his front, and thought cheerfully to herself, 'Welcome back to Camelot, Myrddin.' A small part of her brain wondered what Arthur would think of her being out of the city for mere hours and already bringing back trouble, and a handsome stranger.

* * *

But as it turned out, Arthur wasn't in Camelot when Merlin arrived, feverish Lancelot in tow. Gaius informed her there had been rumors of attacks on outlying villages and Arthur and Uther had gone to gather intelligence.

When Arthur returned to the citadel, he was anxious to see if Myrddin had safely made it back. Of all times for her to be wandering around the countryside on her own, it had to be the day when some mysterious winged creature was snatching people, leaving behind the livestock, as well as a string of fires and general destruction. What if she had faced it in the woods?

He found her exciting Gaius' quarters.

"Arthur!" she cried, in surprise.

"Myrddin," he said. There were no signs of attack, no bloodied shirt or gaping wounds. Now that it appeared she was fine, he really needed to meet with the guards and other knights to plan out how to deal with this creature.

"Are you injured?" Myrddin asked in concern.

"No. I'm fine."

"Oh," she said. Into the uncomfortable silence that formed, "I just thought that you were coming to see Gaius because of possible injuries from the winged creature, I heard that you and your father were going to investigate," she rambled in explanation.

"Yes, we did. But we didn't see it. Just heard the reports. It has ravaged several small villages and snatched a large number of people." Arthur said. There was another small pause, just threatening to get awkward.

"It makes a terrible screeching noise, so that should at least help people have some warning," Myrddin said. Arthur looked at her in renewed worry. Did she know something about the beast? "A sword proved unable to injure it, it merely broke upon its skin," Merlin continued.

"You met this creature?" Arthur asked in alarm. "Were you wounded?"

"I'm fine. Lancelot came out of nowhere and saved me. He was the one with the sword. Obviously. He fights incredibly well, and is quite courageous. He was hurt, but Gaius thinks he should recover by tomorrow."

"Oh. That's great. I've got to...go alert the guards," Arthur said. He felt vaguely uneasy about how enthusiastically Merlin remarked about this Lancelot. What kind of name was Lancelot anyway?

* * *

Merlin watched in great amusement the next day as Lancelot talked about all of his hopes and dreams of becoming a knight of Camelot. But she had also seen his skill and bravery and she had to admit it was nice to see some humility with such skills. But Myrrdin was supposed to report to the training fields and it was time to do a good turn, she thought. So after giving him some ego boosting, she stood up.

"You could shame the great Arthur himself," she said with no little amusement. "In fact, I'm going to go talk to him right now," she said, going to leave.

"You know Arthur?" Lancelot asked in shock and awe.

"Oh yes," she said with a grin. Lancelot followed her to the training field, where, coincidentally enough, Arthur was about to give the final test to a supplicant to the knighthood. Merlin grinned as Arthur began what she considered to be quite the pompous speech, and watched Grimmond, second son of Wessex, face 'the ultimate killing machine' himself. Really, she thought, Arthur took himself very seriously sometimes. But then again, as the knight didn't even last half the minute required for the test, perhaps he did have some small right to do so.

Leaving Lancelot to investigate the training grounds, Myrddin hurried after Arthur, who unceremoniously dumped his armor on her, all the while complaining about yet another failed applicant.

"Actually, I can help you with that," Merlin said cheerfully as she kept pace with Arthur.

"Really?" Arthur asked. "While as a part of the nobility you do fall under the First Code of Camelot, we both know how long you last against me in a sword fight and it is certainly not a minute."

Merlin didn't respond to the taunt, having just been reminded of a sudden hiccup in her plans. How could she have forgotten about the First Code of Camelot? She had been treated to enough rhetoric on political allegiance that the fact should have indelibly been ingrained on her brain. But, Merlin thought, she didn't _know_ that Lancelot wasn't a noble. He could be in disguise, just like her. So she continued on with her mission anyway.

"Well, I know that I don't have what it takes to be a knight of Camelot. But I know someone who does," she said.

"You do?" Arthur asked, dubiously, adding his sword to the pile she was carrying.

"Yes. He saved my life," she said cheerily.

"Well, that's already one strike against him. He's a noble?"

"Oh yes," Merlin said. Really, it was getting easier and easier to lie to Arthur. Not that that was really a good thing, but it would prove ever so helpful next time she had to magically do something around him.

"Well then, bring this Lancelot," Arthur said, with a slight sneer Merlin thought, though she was rather impressed he remembered the name, "to the training field tomorrow morning." He stalked off, and Merlin headed to take care of the armor.

When she got back to Gaius' it was to find an antsy Lancelot waiting for her.

"Did you speak to Arthur?" he queried. "What did he say?"

Merlin looked at him, so excited, so modest, and really all around noble. But perhaps not literally the last. She couldn't find it in herself to not help him, though she did put on a not as hopeful expression. But Lancelot looked so quelled at that that she told him the better news first. "He wants to meet you tomorrow." Lancelot started exclaiming his gratitude.

"You're not a nobleman, by any chance, are you?" she asked, half casually, half anxiously.

"A noblemen? Good lord, no. Why do you ask?" Lancelot said self-effacingly. Before Merlin could think of a way to sugar coat and assure him that there was a solution to this latest road block, Gaius tuned in, explaining all about the First Code of Camelot and what it meant. Merlin sighed at the inherent unfairness of the situation.

"Fair or not, Myrddin, that's the way it is," Gaius said with finality. But Merlin knew that while Gaius professed a conservative track, he allowed Merlin to go through with some of her more _creative_ solutions. At least she hoped he would go along with it. But first, she needed to do some research...

Step one was finding out why Lancelot wanted to be a knight. If he wasn't entirely passionate about this, she might rethink her determination to break yet another law of Camelot that carried potentially dire consequences for breaking. Lancelot's story about his family, his village, being slaughtered, the way he talked of his dedication to learning the sword, so that he'd be able to stand up against tyranny and wrong, it moved Merlin. It looked like it was indeed time for step two.

* * *

Geoffrey of Monmouth was sitting at his usual post in the library when the new princess came in. He watched in curiosity as she browsed for awhile, skimming through various books, looking intent on finding something.

After a few of the dustiest volumes had been opened, and sneezed over, he opted to see if he could help her in her search.

"I just thought I could get to know a bit about Camelot, now that I live here," Merlin said. "I was in particular wondering about the nobles in Camelot. Arthur and I were just discussing the First Code of Camelot and I thought it would be nice to know what other noblemen might be coming to try for the knighthood." Geoffrey looked at her in curiosity. It was unusual but impressive that the lady seemed so interested in it. She continued, almost as if she felt guilty about such an undertaking.

"I don't know if you've heard, but the second son of Wessex just failed the final test, only this morning," she whispered, conspiratorially. "Now, I was wondering, is there a third son of Wessex? Or anyone else that could possibly be coming to join the ranks of the knights?"

Geoffrey hadn't heard this latest tidbit, but he did know where the nobles who had pledged under the First Code of Camelot and their progeny were recorded. He showed a large and dusty volume to the princess who took it with a pleased smile and sat down to study it some.

Geoffrey returned to his seat, watching in delight as Merlin appeared to be very closely studying the pages. After a bit, Merlin returned the book to him. "It's a real page-turner," she said seriously, and with that she left. Geoffrey hoped that she would be returning soon. It would be so nice to have someone else taking interest in the history of the kings and nobility. Perhaps he should start compiling one, dating back from Brutus and the Trojans first landing in Albion and the subsequent kings who reigned. King Kymbelinus was certainly an intriguing story as well. And if the Lady wanted to know more about her husband's family, he would make sure to include the story of Vortigen, who sought to usurp the throne away from Uther's ancestors. Surely Merlin would be ever so interested in the rich history of the land. In fact, he could sketch out the opening legend right away...

* * *

Step three, now that a seal of nobility had been obtained (and Merlin had convinced Lancelot of the ethical reasons why this little bit of rule bending was all for the best), was acquiring the services of a seamstress who could help Lancelot get the proper knight attire.

Gwen was only too happy to help, and Myrddin watched in amusement as Lancelot was measured for knightly apparel by Guinevere. Lancelot seemed a little embarrassed at the attentions of the beautiful maid, but Merlin thought there was some definite interest on both sides, some subtle flirting. Maybe, if Lancelot did pass whatever ordeals Arthur put upon him, and became a knight, perhaps something could come of it. Merlin didn't know two nicer or more loyal people to get together.

Seeing that she had left both her friends in capable hands, and their interest clearly engaged in the other, Merlin slipped out. She was supposed to dine with the king, his ward, and her husband and needed to effect her change of attire quickly.

Making her way to Merlin's royal chambers, Myrddin started humming under her breath. Arthur looked at her strangely as he passed on the way to his own quarters, but Merlin paid him no heed. She was very satisfied with herself. Everything was working out nicely with Lancelot and if things progressed as she intended them to, Gwen's crush on Myrddin would be decisively fixed on a new target.

For the first time, Merlin didn't feel like a guest walking into her bedchambers. The room was starting to feel more and more like her own. Thus, still whistling, she made her way to her wardrobe, casually beginning to undress with the supreme lack of attention to modesty that one feels in one's own bedroom.

She kicked her shoes into the base of wardrobe, draped the neckerchief over one of the doors, flung her belt over the other, released the magic holding her disguise in place and was just loosening the laces at the top of her tunic enough that she'd be able to pull it off when she was hit, hard, on the head, with something flat and heavy.

Merlin stumbled forward, but caught herself on the rim of the dresser, whirling around to face her attacker.

Before she could make out who it was, she had to shield her face with her arms as the assailant continued beating her with a thick book, screaming with a shrill, carrying voice for the guards, yelling about thieves and cuckolds and murderers and something else that was too high pitched for Merlin to decipher.

Merlin sputtered out protests, begging this mysterious female to desist, but it was all in vain. The only thing that stopped the attacks was one of the doors being flung open and a golden haired prince running into the room, sword in hand.

* * *

Arthur stared at the strange scene before him. He had been returning to his chambers when he heard frantic female screaming from his wife's room. At first he couldn't make out what was shrilly being yelled, and wondered cynically if his new bride was afraid of spiders, or some other such paltry thing. Nevertheless, it was his duty to confront whatever demon was plaguing the room. As he reached the doors he comprehended only a few words of the shrieking speech, but the words he did hear immediately drew his attention. "Thief!-Murderer!-". Drawing his sword, Arthur had pushed open the door, prepared to face some bandit trying to carry off his wife. But upon crossing the threshold he saw no burly kidnapper, but instead the disheveled form of Myrddin, fending off a servant girl who was hitting her repeatedly with a book.

At his entrance, the girl had stopped her attack, and upon seeing who it was, had dropped a quick curtsey. "My lord," she began, "this man has come in here with the clear desire to assault your wife." Arthur glanced at Myrddin, who looked just as stunned by the statement as he was.

Before he could figure out how to resolve this situation, he heard the guards who watched over the corridors where the royal family lived making their way to the door. It would do no good for more people to get involved in this madness. Sheathing his sword, he quickly returned to the door.

"It's all right," he called to the guards. "The ladies have encountered some mice. I shall take care of it. Thank you for your prompt response." He could hear the unknown blonde servant sputtering indignantly at his claim, but he ignored her. Once the guards had bowed, and made their way back to their posts, Arthur shut the door firmly behind him and approached the two females.

In his distraction the servant had started hitting Myrddin again. Quickly approaching, he separated the two and confiscated the book before the mad maid could hit anyone else with it.

"What on earth is going on here?" he demanded. "And who are you?" he asked the maid.

"I am Sevryn, your wife's personal maidservant, my lord."

"I see. And the reason you are attacking my personal manservant is..." Arthur asked.

"Your manservant?" the girl asked in shock. "All I know was that I was cleaning my lady's chambers when this strange peasant came in and started disrobing!" Arthur looked at his wife, who was looking sheepishly at the floor. Looking at her, he realized that Myrddin's shoes were off, her shirt unlaced, leaving a gaping slit down to her chest.

There was no hope for it but the truth. With Myrddin's return to Camelot, this girl would have to become used to seeing the manservant in this room.

"You didn't tell her?" he demanded of his wife incredulously. "How did you intend to get away with this if your maid shrieks bloody murder every time you come in?"

"I didn't see any reason to tell her. How was I supposed to know she'd scream so loudly, or hit me with a book?"

"You really are an idiot. Sevryn," he said turning to the maid. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your mistress is, well, there is no easy way to say it." He looked at his wife who was glaring at him. "You've been hitting the lady Merlin with a book." Reaching over he plucked the wig off his wife's head. Some of her natural hair pulled away with the wig, sticking up bizarrely while the rest of the messy locks cascading down in a very untidy heap. Sevryn looked on, horrified.

"My lady! Your hair!" The maidservant immediately scrambled for a brush, pulling the still glaring Merlin over to her dressing table. Shoving her unceremoniously down on the stool, she began fiercely brushing out all the tangles. "You are dining with the king tonight! Oh, there is so little time to make you presentable."

Leaving the frantic girl and frustrated spouse to their ministrations, Arthur quickly exited. But as soon as he was out in the corridor he let out a hearty guffaw. His inept manservant was certainly getting a competence comeuppance.

* * *

An hour or so after Arthur's valiant rescue, Arthur left his chambers for dinner. He wondered if Merlin had survived the enthusiasm of her maidservant in one piece. Stopping at his wife's door, he knocked, waiting until a much more composed Sevryn than earlier opened it. Slipping inside he looked around for Merlin.

Merlin, it seemed, had not recovered from the assault earlier. Though she was suitably attired in a deep blue gown, hair looking almost as sleek as Morgana's, she did not smile as she took his proffered arm. Once out in the hall, away from the overzealous maid, she expressed her grievances.

"I greatly dislike having servants," Merlin huffed as they walked. "Unlike some people I know, I am perfectly capable of dressing myself."

She was so indignant about it, Arthur couldn't help but laugh. "If you could have seen your face earlier," he said.

"You can say what you like of my being a terrible servant, but I have never been as bad as that," Merlin insisted.

"Yes, I imagine having an attendant who fiercely attacked an intruder instead of one who cowers behind trees at every sign of danger would be a terrible thing," Arthur replied dryly.

"I was referring to the hair. My head will never be the same. Sevryn attacked it as if each lock was a snake, like Medusa of myth," Merlin avowed. Arthur snorted.

"It did almost seem alive right after I pulled your wig off," Arthur said.

"Well, then it shall be a great comfort to you. Next time we are under an attack, I'll jump out in the open, whip off my wig and petrify all the attackers with my fearsome hair."

They both laughed at that, walking into where Morgana and his Father waited. As Arthur was halfway through the second course, Arthur realized that that was one of the very few times he'd had anything close to a easy conversation with Merlin. The stiffness that had previously marked most of their interactions as husband and wife had been entirely absent.

Subtly observing his wife, he saw that she too still smiled. It was a nice feeling.

* * *

Arthur was on the training ground the next morning when a stranger reported to the field, "I am Lancelot, fifth son of Eldred of Northumbria," the mans said.

"Ah, Lancelot. My wife's told me about you," Arthur said investigating the seal. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Myrddin, shaking her head. Lancelot also looked confused, and Arthur realized with a flash that it had clearly been the manservant the man had interacted with. That appeased Arthur a little in regard to the man having rescued his wife. It was one thing to rescue a manservant and quite another to rescue a princess.

Deciding to ignore his error instead of scrambling for explanations, Arthur simply proceeded to the test for aspiring knights. Having declared Lancelot's reflexes slow, and perhaps disliking him just a little bit for his wife's enthusiastic endorsement, he ordered the man to go clean the stables. Myrddin was giving him a glare that just screamed an insult, but the aspiring knight was most humble about it. Arthur was surprised. Not even Myrddin, back when he hadn't realized that the manservant was other than a peasant, had ever been that obliging about that. It boded well for the man; Arthur did not tolerate insubordinate knights.

* * *

As Lancelot approached the physician's chambers after mucking out the stables he could hear Myrddin and Gaius talking through the open door. He realized with a start that they were talking about him. He walked through the door but neither of them seemed to notice his quiet entry, so intent were they on their discussion.

"...the Code of Camelot has not been broken for any man," Gaius said.

"The code is wrong! Lancelot deserves a chance for this. I'm just bending the rules," Myrrdin had retorted when he got to the door.

"Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed in frustration. Merlin? Lancelot wondered as Gaius continued, "It is not up to you to change these things."

"If not me, then who? Why can't we let people use the talents they have? You know as well as I that we cannot help how we are _born._ If I hadn't been willing to bend some of Uther's unjust laws where would we be now? How many more would be dead?" Myrddin exclaimed passionately.

"You know that is completely different, Merlin. You can't use your tricks for every little thing. It is dangerous enough for you as it is," Gaius said calmly. But that was the second use of that name, Lancelot realized. Something was clearly going on here, something he didn't really understand.

But his entry had at last been noted, whether from the smell of the stables he carried so abundantly on him or something else he wasn't quite sure. Gaius looked at him, confused.

"I thought you had taken him to Arthur to become a knight, not to help you with your chores in the stables," Gaius said at length.

"Arthur was being prattish about it, so it appears that even with my best efforts I'm not repaying the debt I owe Lancelot for saving my life very well," Myrddin said. Lancelot gave a tired smile at the boy's determined grin and went off to bed. Hopefully things would go better tomorrow, that he would get a chance to prove himself to the prince.

* * *

The next morning, Lancelot was polishing and sharpening his sword out near the stables, contemplating how to prove to the prince that he was worthy to be a knight, when he was graced with the arrival of the man in question. Lancelot wasn't quite sure how it happened, but he soon found himself having a fight with makeshift quarter staffs. Though Arthur won, he seemed satisfied, ordering the would-be knight to the training fields. It seemed he would have his chance.

The warning bells sounded then, and as both men ran towards the sound, Lancelot found himself admiring the prince he had just met. He had heard tales of the prince's ability, but this anxiety over his people, the way he helped attend to the injured people in the square, then in almost immediately scheduling more defensive training for the knights, it all spoke of a devotion to his kingdom that Lancelot greatly admired. It was the reason he had long sought to become a knight himself.

And so when Arthur later talked to Lancelot, moving the scheduled final test to join the knighthood up, saying he was needed in the noble ranks, Lancelot was humbled. He was ill-made to be a knight, perhaps, but he was anxious to start protecting people.

Though Arthur was a difficult opponent, Lancelot was able to last the minute required to pass the test. Myrddin and Guinevere had looked on proudly, and with an immeasurable feeling that he had at last made amends for being the sole survivor of his village, Lancelot was knighted. Lancelot of course didn't know that Uther had been suspicious of an unheard of fifth son, and had sent Geoffrey of Monmouth to further research this. No, in this moment, Lancelot had finally realized his dream and there was nothing to taint it for him.

* * *

Arthur was staring at his wife. He had been, off and on of course, all evening. Over the last few weeks he had been trying to piece together what he had privately termed the Merlin puzzle.

Though there had been some trepidation on his part at actually marrying Merlin, once he had gotten over the shock of marrying his manservant, a very, very small, private part of him had been relieved that he would get along with his wife, which was not a guarantee of all arranged marriages.

So though he had worried that Merlin would be too much like Myrddin for the deception to hold, it was to his confusion that Merlin was so entirely different. She had claimed that she could be a perfectly proper princess, but it wasn't until she arrived, demure and sweet, that he actually believed her.

The most jarring difference between the two personalities was not that Merlin was more diplomatic than the brash Myrddin nor that Merlin did indeed know all the intricate patterns of behavior prescribed for interactions with royalty. No, it had been her smile. The cheeky grin he had come to think of as a signature part of Myrddin turned out to be just that, a signature part of Myrddin. The Lady Merlin smiled differently, more restrained, less wholeheartedly amused by things.

But, Arthur reflected, as he stared at his wife who was talking with Guinevere at the moment, that Merlin did have a lovely smile, showing its owner's pleasure in things perhaps with a bit more reservation, but no less sincerely for it. That Merlin was delighted to have provided Arthur with a knight was evident.

At that moment said newest knight approached. Arthur broke off his musings to greet the man.

"And how long have you been in Camelot, Lancelot?" Arthur asked over their ale.

"Only a few days, sire. I met Myrddin on my way into Camelot. He has been most welcoming."

"Yes, Myrddin is like that," Arthur said agreeably, even if his introduction to Myrddin had been completely different.

"I'm actually surprised that Myrddin isn't here. I see that Guinevere is here, and I had understood that they were friends and held similar positions," Lancelot observed. Arthur wondered if he needed to actually make an excuse for Myrddin's absence. No one else had noticed it. But he supposed few of the knights and other attendants at this feast in celebration of Lancelot's knighting were familiar enough with the servants to notice one's absence. Before Myrddin he had certainly not noticed any of the servants at events like these. Myrddin had changed that about him. Of course, he had initially started paying attention to be able to definitively state that everyone else had better servants than he did, but he thought it meant something that he continued to observe them.

"I'm sure he's around. Somewhere," he uttered noncommittally, instead of an excuse.

"Who is the lady talking to Gwen," Lancelot asked. For some reason, Arthur was surprised that Lancelot knew Guinevere, though if he was relying on Myrddin for introductions to people this was much less unexpected.

"Oh, that is my wife, Merlin," Arthur said congenially.

"Merlin?" Lancelot asked in stunned surprise. Arthur stared at him in question. "I had just not realized that you were married. Have you been married long?"

"Just a few weeks," Arthur said, gazing at his wife, as she moved to talk to Morgana for a moment. Lancelot did not linger, which was just as well, given that Arthur was once again analyzing his wife's interactions.

For instance, he knew that Myrddin and Morgana had reached a certain accord of their own. Merlin and Morgana, clear from just their body language, were nowhere near as comfortable with each other. It must be strange for Merlin, Arthur reflected, sipping at his ale some more, to maintain a friendship with someone half the time, and the rest play at being near strangers, having to act as the other person would expect one to, not as one wanted to.

And then, among his wine drinking, Arthur realized of a little truth. Myrddin and Merlin were most fundamentally different in how she approached the situation. She was able to keep them separate because people expected that difference. As long as she responded according to their expectations, then she could be both!

Merlin was more diplomatic, more moderated in her expression, not an unexpected quality in one raised in a court. As Arthur had already ruminated, even her smile was different. Myrddin must have been wonderfully freeing for his wife. Even he, Arthur, had found Myrddin wonderfully freeing. Because Myrddin broke standard conventions with every overly cheery hello, every insult, every complaint, every time 'he' walked in without knocking, Arthur had felt free to respond in kind, ie. in honesty, be that frustration, anxiety or laughter. He could see now, even as Merlin resumed her birth place, why she had begged him to keep Myrddin on as a part time manservant. She'd even said as much, at the time: 'When Merlin arrives, it will be all court etiquette and polite distance. Will you even throw insults at me or goblets when I wake you up too early or take me with you when you fight bandits or even joke about taking me to a tavern? No! You'll get some other manservant to talk to and I'll not even have the friendship of Gaius, or Gwen!'

Arthur felt that he'd been so blind. Here he had been looking at all the differences between the two, moaning that he could only really talk to one while the other forced him to resort to polite inanities, when all along, he was setting the tone for how the newly welcomed princess fit in with Camelot, particularly in how she responded to him.

A quick run through of the best of his 'Merlin encounters' showed that their interactions had been more natural when he'd set the pace so: their wedding night, where they played chess, each insulting each other increasingly creatively as the game became more competitive; his impromptu rescue mission when Sevryn had discovered the manservant and their laughing over it afterward; the morning he'd gone for a walk and found Merlin standing at his favorite overlook of the city and they had spied on people they knew as they bustled about.

Mind made up, Arthur wended his way through the crowd to his wife. Morgana made her departure shortly after his arrival and the pair stood there, awkwardly sipping from their goblets. Arthur felt his resolution to treat her differently than before fade the longer they stood there.

But just as the atmosphere was rapidly becoming the most bizarrely tense since they married, Arthur's courage rallied, and he prepared to say the first candid thing that came to mind.

But Merlin beat him to the punch, asking him about the First Code of Camelot. To Arthur's surprise, Merlin delivered a well reasoned argument. While he had always considered Myrddin's random descent into wise utterings to be a mere fluke, he wondered instead if it was a bit of Merlin shining through, the Merlin that evidently thought about these sorts of things quite a bit.

"Does birth really make someone more inherently loyal to their monarch?" Merlin was asking. "Look at Guinevere. You would be hard pressed to find someone more loyal to Morgana, and she is but a peasant."

Arthur had indeed looked at Guinevere when directed, and the serving maid was even at that moment attending to her mistress, both giving a quiet laugh at some small joke that had passed between them.

But Arthur wasn't going to blithely agree with everything Merlin said. He'd come to greatly dislike demureness in the last few weeks so he wasn't likely to emulate the quality himself.

"That is true. But those born to the nobility are raised with the expectation of this loyalty. All around them is their duty, and examples of such fidelity among their own family. They are trained since childhood to serve their king faithfully and thus they can pledge to be true and chivalrous knights," Arthur countered.

"Yes, I can see that Sir Oldric," Merlin said, speaking of an aging knight known for his spartan habits, "has passed all of his best virtues on to his son." Arthur followed her gaze and saw said son, already looking slovenly in appearance, far gone on the wine proffered.

Even as Arthur made a counter point, for almost the first time Arthur was privately wondering seriously if it was a necessary division, the knights always coming from nobler origins versus the regular soldiers of the army. As Merlin painted examples, Arthur was beginning to understand what Merlin was saying. Camelot might be greater if it drew equally from all its best resources, be a kingdom where all people were encouraged to together make something great about the land, everyone justly valued for what they could do.

The conversation continued, and Arthur found himself appreciating Merlin's renewed openness with him, that she was willing to posit an unusual viewpoint and ask his opinion on it. He had been over hasty before tonight in thinking it was only as Myrddin that they could talk. Was it possible that eventually they could completely be themselves around each other without needing the disguise?

Though the conversation ended up in a draw, both conceding the other had a point, though perhaps not as strong as their own, they parted amicably that evening. Arthur in particular was satisfied with their conversation; in time he trusted that Merlin would be just as easy to talk to as Myrddin currently was.

* * *

Lancelot was pacing in the room he had temporarily been given in Gaius' quarters. Now that he was a knight he ought to look for permanent lodgings. Despite the pounding headache induced by too much wine the night before, Lancelot was reflecting on something he hadn't really been paying attention to before. Where did Myrddin sleep? He hadn't seen him, nor was there another room readily apparent. And coupled with the argument that Gaius and Myrddin had been having, where Gaius had twice addressed 'Merlin' and Myrddin's lack of presence while Lady Merlin was there last night...but it seemed a rather fantastical idea.

Just then Myrddin cheerfully bounced up the stairs into the room, holding a goblet that he warned Lancelot shouldn't smell or look at before drinking. The stuff was pretty vile, but his head did feel better afterward. And he was brave enough to ask some questions. Just as Myrddin had turned to go down the stairs again, joking about the first day on the job, Lancelot called out the name, "Merlin?"

"Yes?" Myrddin turned, and then froze. They both looked at each other for a moment. "How did you know?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"As I approached the other day, I heard Gaius twice call you Merlin, and when Myrddin wasn't there last night, but Merlin was," he trailed off. Before Myrddin could explain this strange subterfuge, palace guards had entered and arrested Lancelot. It seemed his seal of nobility had been found to be a fake.

* * *

Merlin could have kicked herself as the house of cards she had been building, the noble idea of perhaps changing the very defenders of Camelot to something that represented all of its people, and maybe one day those with magic as well, fell apart. The talk with Arthur at the banquet had been so reassuring, even as he argued that those raised under the Code of Camelot, raised to serve had been raised with expectations of chivalry, nobility, loyalty and honor and that meant something. While the couple had privately conceded that perhaps Camelot needed to acknowledge both, Lancelot being revealed to be a fraud had ended his hard earned knighthood. He had been arrested.

Myrddin visited him, but the erstwhile knight had stubbornly refused to implicate her in his downfall. Merlin had smiled sadly at his continued loyalty to his ideals, and soberly returned to her quarters. As she left, he gave a little bow, "Good day, my lady." It saddened her that he felt the need to address her so formally now.

If she couldn't change this one thing, what hope was there of changing Camelot? Of ever bringing magic back to the land? For the first time since she had started believing in the dragon's destiny, Merlin began to doubt its efficacy as a reliable dream.

* * *

But the world didn't stop with Merlin's doubting of her ideals. The griffin had returned to the city and despite the efforts of the red-cloaked warriors of Camelot, once again swords were proving useless.

Husband and wife both set out to do their best to defeat the creature, each relying on their truest weapon in their disposal. Predictably, Merlin had turned to Gaius for guidance, and set about trying to enchant a dagger to be able to penetrate the skin of the magical creature. Arthur turned to his knights, preparing to mount an attack on the creature outside of the city. Looking at his knights, loyal though they were, Arthur felt deep regret that Lancelot, the Lancelot who had attacked the griffin alone in the forest, with only a sword and no armor, the Lancelot who had said he only wanted to protect others, the Lancelot who had risked everything merely for the chance to be a knight, Arthur regretted that that Lancelot was not part of the group.

Merlin's words at the banquet had spoken of a Camelot where the qualities of the man, not his father, determined his eligibility and Arthur had a brief dream that perhaps that was a Camelot that one day could be. Acting on this fleeting hope, Arthur made his way down to the dungeons before he departed and released Lancelot. Maybe one day, he thought. But not today. With his group of noblemen, he rode out of the city, preparing to face the griffin again.

* * *

As soon as Gwen had run in, declaring that Lancelot was now preparing to ride off to fight the griffin, Myrddin dropped the dagger she had so futilely been trying to enchant with Gaius' encouragement. It was bad enough that so many knights had ridden out with no hope of winning. Bad enough that Arthur had. With a glance at Gaius, Merlin raced to the stables.

Sure enough, there was Lancelot, saddling his horse.

"I'm coming with you," Merlin stated once she reached him.

"No you're not," Lancelot retorted. At Myrddin's look of protest he continued. "Myrddin, _Merlin_, you're not a soldier."

"You said it yourself, Arthur needs all the help he can get," Merlin argued.

"And what would he say if I let you come with me?" Lancelot retorted.

"He is not in charge of my decisions," Merlin stated. Surely that was obvious in the time Lancelot had known her.

"He's your husband," Lancelot counter argued. In all fairness, Merlin could see his point. If she were Lancelot she wouldn't exactly want to be the one to be responsible for the unarmed princess leaving the safety of the citadel.

"And he's about to face a deathly creature. Let's go!" Merlin cried, running to saddle her own horse.

Tensely they rode out of the town. Barely out of the outlying walls, they heard that terrible screeching that had serenaded their first meeting, but this time it was answered by the horrible yells of beleaguered men. Quickly they rode closer, coming on the terrible sight of many dead noblemen. In checking the bodies, she noted in relief that actually only a small number had died. Some seemed to only be knocked out. Though he was clearly injured, Arthur turned out to be one of the merely unconscious.

Lancelot and Merlin barely had a moment to breathe a sigh of relief before the unmistakable sounds of imminent attack demanded their immediate attention. Lancelot hurried to grab his lance and mount his horse, while Merlin hoped with everything in her that her magic would be strong enough for this.

As Merlin repeatedly chanted, "Bregdan anweald gafeluec," she watched Lancelot ride further down the road, preparing, like in any tournament, to have the full length of the course to gallop, giving the maximum momentum to the lance. It was a bizarre tournament to be sure, so different from the one that had been held in her honor only two weeks ago.

The two opponents drew closer and closer, and Merlin chanted again and again hoping that the spell would work.

Finally, when there was very little distance left to traverse, the spell finally took effect, blue flames erupting out of the tip of the lance and swirling down the rest of the shaft, towards where Lancelot gripped it. And with the strength of Lancelot's jab, the spear imbedded it in the chest of the griffin, which fell from the sky with one last shriek.

Merlin could hardly believe it, Lancelot was still on his horse, the lone victor in the suddenly silent night. Merlin grabbed the ends of her wig, running her fingers through the locks there in relief, crying, "We did it!" over and over again, with an incredulous laugh. Lancelot just smiled tiredly from his seat, sweat shining on his face.

The unofficial celebration was suddenly curtailed by the groan of returning consciousness of some knight. Merlin knew with her luck it was likely Arthur, and gave a sort of panicked look at Lancelot, then hastened to her horse. Merlin of course didn't regret coming out here, but her words to Lancelot, that Arthur was not the one to dictate her actions, well they would likely be heatedly contested by Arthur. It was much better to let Lancelot have all of this glory.

* * *

Unfortunately, Arthur had started awaking before Merlin had realized and before she could mount her horse, he was fully sitting up.

Arthur's first vocalizations were much like Merlin's had been. "You did it!" he exclaimed as he saw the sight of Lancelot sitting triumphantly on his horse, the dead griffin beside him. But Arthur's situational awareness was still high and he turned to see the other upright figure at the end of the battlefield. At Arthur's call, Myrddin's face peaked out from behind the horse's head.

"Myrddin!"

"Arthur! You're alive!" Merlin's voice was in direct contrast to Arthur's shocked, annoyed tone. Hers was all overenthusiastic charm.

"Obviously. What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Oh, you know, just seeing the sights. The griffin is dead!"

Lancelot watched the interactions of the two in interest. He still didn't know why the couple put on this subterfuge, but he keenly observed, looking for clues to the mystery.

By this time, Arthur had approached Merlin, who still clung to her horse bridle. "How could you be so stupid?" Arthur cried. "I'm starting to think that you believe yourself to be immune to all consequences and a knight to boot. It's just one thing after another with you, from the day you interfered with my target practice the day I met you, to your frequent unannounced bursting into the council chambers. You can't just run around, alone, at night, in the dark when there are dangerous creatures afoot."

"I wasn't alone. I came with Lancelot," Merlin protested. Arthur started to turn his anger to the man, who felt it was no less than he deserved. But Merlin wasn't done, she backtracked. "Who of course vehemently opposed my coming and is in no way responsible for anything except killing the griffin."

Lancelot was amazed that this mad, impetuous friend he'd made succeeded in squelching the prince's anger. As Arthur and Lancelot turned their attention to the rest of the fallen, the other Pendragon slipped away, riding back to Camelot. With the risk now neutralized, Arthur and Lancelot began tending to the men, treating what injuries they could. It would be another busy night for the physicians and midwives of the city.

At last Arthur made his way to his king, eager to tell him of their triumph. Uther was joyful at the news, but a chill entered his voice when he caught sight of Lancelot. Lancelot was eventually relegated to the hall while Arthur debated with his father about Lancelot's just rewards.

In such a situation did Merlin again encounter a tense Lancelot, waiting to hear his fate. When the princess joined him, he ruminated on the boyish appearance that had accompanied him earlier. It was actually an impressive disguise, Lancelot thought. If he hadn't heard the slips of tongue he didn't think he would have seen the truth.

"What are they doing?" the princess asked.

"Deciding my fate," Lancelot said.

"They'll restore your knighthood," she said confidently. "Of course they will. You killed the griffin." And that, Lancelot thought, was the real issue.

"But I didn't kill the griffin," he said quietly.

"Of course you did," she said seriously.

"You did. 'Bregdan anweald'. I heard you." The princess had paled slightly at his repeating the words she had shouted. "Don't worry your secret is safe with me. Both of them. But I cannot take credit for what I did not do."

The lady protested at that. "My spell," she said the second word in a much quieter voice, "would have had no efficacy without a lance behind it. You did kill the griffin. I only, helped." Lancelot shook his head at that. Merlin sighed at his refusal to claim credit. "So what are you going to do?"

"The only thing I can," Lancelot replied. And thus he told the king that he would seek to be worthy of the honor the knighthood later, declaring he did not wish to drive a wedge between the Pendragons because of his lie. Arthur looked saddened to see him go, but Lancelot humbly bowed and prepared to head out of Camelot. Before he had only had a boyhood ideal. But here in Camelot, he found a reality to live up to. He'd seek to implement the virtues Arthur had shown, the devotion, the courage, the strength, justice and honor. And, he thought, there was also much to emulate in the prince's bride, the humility, the selflessness, and the fairness.

But before he left, he planned to at least say goodbye to Guinevere.

* * *

_Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review thus far. Reviews very much make my day. I especially love when people mention specific things they like or dislike. I feel like knowing this helps me develop into a better writer. So, if you can, please review.  
_


	8. In Which Morgana and Merlin Bond Over Mo

In Which the Disclaimer Details Are Addressed: I don't own the BBC TV series Merlin, and all recognizable plot and dialogue in this chapter comes from Season 1 Episode 8 "The Beginning of the End".

* * *

**Chapter Eight: In Which Morgana and Merlin Bond Over Mordred, Magic, and the Miseries Entailed in Being a Royal Lady in Camelot  
**

* * *

A childish scream intruded upon Merlin's musings as she walked down a fortunately empty corridor. She stopped and looked around, but saw no one. For a moment the noise had seemed to reverberate within Merlin's own mind, but the idea was ridiculous. Only the dragon had been able to call out in such a way, and he was the last dragon. But minutes later, the voice came back, this time a heartbreaking plea for help. Swiftly Merlin made her way out of the castle proper, toward the direction she judged the scream to come from.

Once in the courtyard, Merlin scanned the crowd, catching sight of a blue cloak. Upon meeting eyes with the boy it covered, Merlin heard the voice again, "Please, you have to help me." Merlin looked around in worry. Guards were approaching, and even from the distance Merlin could tell they sought the boy.

The dragon had been useful for at least one thing; Merlin was able to send a message mentally back to the boy, asking if it was indeed he the guards sought, though Merlin hardly thought it necessary. This was magic.

Unobtrusively Merlin ducked into a darkened passage that Merlin knew could quickly lead to the family quarter of the castle, if one knew the way, thankful (for the first time) that Arthur had been so fastidious about punctuality that he had actually given Myrddin time off to find the quickest routes to everywhere (not that that had drastically decreased her tardiness, seeing as Merlin often had other things she had to attend to and giving Arthur his breakfast the moment he wanted it was rarely her first concern). Once Merlin was in the shadows, she silently called to the boy to run to where she was. In alarm she noted that the boy clutched at his arm as he ran. He was already injured.

The guards pursued, but Merlin's knowledge of the castle held true. Dashing down a corridor, she knew she needed to get inside right then, and her own room was too far away. She ran into the nearest room, praying it wasn't a mistake to show up at Morgana's door. Hopefully the feelings of friendship Morgana and Gwen held towards Myrddin would be enough for them to help her.

* * *

Morgana and Gwen looked up from their conversation in surprise as the door to the room suddenly opened. Before they could respond, someone darted in, shutting the door behind themselves, then leaning on it heavily. To Morgana's surprise, it was Arthur's wife braced against the door, looking rather anxious, a small figure peeking out from behind the lady.

"Merlin! What are you doing here?" she queried.

Merlin looked startled at being addressed as such, glancing down at her dress in shock before looking back towards Morgana. Morgana wondered sardonically if Merlin expected a more formal term of address towards her royal person. But the other girl seemed to recover rather quickly.

"I didn't know where else to go," she explained in a rush. "He's just a child." Morgana shifted her attention to the blue cloak, meeting the blue eyes that anxiously peered out. Instantly Morgana felt a strange connection to the boy, a fleeting sort of bond unlike any she had experienced before. Impulsively deciding to help, she indicated a small alcove where they might hide. It was only when she had sent the guards away that the enormity of her decision started to come home.

With Gwen's help, Morgana and Merlin got the child situated on a small pallet behind the red curtain. The boy had fallen unconscious from his injury so there was silence between the two noble ladies as they did their best to bandage the diminutive druid. Once the task was completed, and Gwen had been dispatched to get some food, it was awkward between them, Merlin having spent only a little time with Morgana since she arrived, and never in Morgana's chambers, especially not in such circumstances. Morgana found herself rather curious about what had led the girl here.

"Why did you not take the boy to your own chambers?" Morgana asked.

The other lady flushed a bit, and answered uncomfortably, "Arthur sometimes visits there, you know, in the evening, and I wasn't sure that he would approve…" She trailed off. Morgana nodded in understanding. No, Arthur would certainly not condone such flagrant disobedience to his father's law.

"But how did you know that I would be willing to help? You have no reason to think that I wouldn't turn you over to the king."

Merlin equivocated a bit in reply. "I felt certain that you were a woman of compassion and have heard that you resist Uther's more ruthless stances," she said at length. It was flattering to be sure, but Morgana felt something off about that reply, as if Merlin was concealing more than she was saying with her words. At Morgana's probing stare the girl elaborated further. Looking her in the eye, Merlin said, "Though I know that Uther cares for you, Arthur too, it seems that Camelot's court is rather like Powys'. My parents love me, my brothers as well, but there has always been a certain," Here she hesitated.

"Distance?" Morgana completed the thought for her. Merlin nodded.

"That we are alone even though we rarely actually are. I've seen how close you are with Guinevere, just as I was close to Hunith back home." Morgana was startled at that revelation.

"When I saw this poor child, scared and alone in the austerity that can be Camelot, I knew exactly how he felt," Merlin paused. "And I remembered that you had come as an orphaned child to Camelot, and I was certain that you would understand."

Merlin's words brought a memory to mind, a memory of being ten, her father just having died, and her being sent to live with the austere Uther, whom she had barely met before. Camelot seemed so large, so foreboding. In time she had come to love Arthur and Uther, but if it hadn't been for Gwen, if she hadn't been able to trust Gaius with her terrible nightmares...For the first time, Morgana really wondered about this quiet woman who had joined the court. Did she too feel alone and without any friends? Morgana felt guilty at her snide welcome. Here the girl was risking her life for some innocent boy and Morgana had only ever thought her proud and disagreeable and rather boring.

"If there is anything I can do to make you more welcome in Camelot, let me know," Morgana said sincerely. The girl smiled.

"He appears to be sleeping, so perhaps, we could talk some. I assume that you regard Arthur like a brother?" Morgana nodded. "I have three older brothers, so I know how they can be. Tell me, did you ever pull some sort of prank on him?"

* * *

Arthur received summons from the training field from the king. Arthur rushed to his father, anxious about the magical threat that was apparently lurking in the city, only to find that this so called unleashed magical maelstrom was in fact a missing druid. A missing child in fact. The presumed father of the lad had been apprehended, but the boy had escaped somewhere into the palace. Arthur stood still as his father delivered his orders to find and arrest the lad with alacrity.

The prince took his responsibilities seriously, especially with his coming of age in a few days, but the amount of fuss the king was ordering seemed an excessive reaction given the nature of the crime.

"The Druid was only in Camelot to collect supplies. He meant no harm. Is it necessary to execute him?"

Uther didn't question his response at all. "Absolutely necessary," he said with finality. "Those who use magic cannot be tolerated."

Arthur had done a lot of thinking in the weeks since Lancelot had been knighted, unknighted, and then had still chosen to face down the griffin. Merlin's passionate defense of the value of people not seen as worthy of some honors, her shared vision of creating a Camelot which valued all of it's people had made for some interesting discussions between the two of them. Life had been very interesting ever since Myrddin stumbled into his life championing his beleaguered manservant, but it had only become more interesting since Merlin had arrived. She'd constantly challenged his assumptions, especially about lumping people into a stock characterization and then treating them thus.

"The Druids are a peaceful people," Arthur protested.

"Given the chance, they would return magic to the kingdom. They preach peace, but conspire against me. We cannot appear weak."

Arthur hesitated in his response, knowing that his father would never abide the label or stigma of ever appearing weak. If he wanted to curtail the manhunt the king proposed, Arthur would have to voice his thoughts carefully.

With conviction, but not accusation, Arthur said, "Showing mercy can be a sign of strength." This was the largest influence Merlin had wrought, and Arthur wasn't even sure if she knew it. When he'd met her, he'd been bullying. The knights he was with seemed to respond more if he was always overtly displaying his authority and his skill. But Myrddin had stood up to him, not because he was the prince, and not because a visiting peasant possessed more given authority. But in showing compassion to the servant, Myrddin had gained the respect of many in the crowd. Arthur had not admitted it at the time, sending the lad instead to the dungeons, but Myrddin had won respect from him as well.

It was a hard earned example, but one that, having noticed once, Arthur began to see in many of the interactions of the servant. He'd seen Myrddin give some of the extra meet from a hunt to some of the village children. After the aborted wedding to Elena, Arthur had looked for his manservant, only to realize that the lad had taken it upon himself to help the visiting princess since her maid had mysteriously disappeared. Over and over again, small acts of caring and concern had been committed by Myrddin. Most especially laudable was the way that Myrddin had always been doing little tasks for Gaius. While Arthur had outwardly scoffed at this token excuse for tardiness, he'd been glad the physician who had always had time for his every question had someone to help him.

These details about his wife had become all the more startling when Arthur realized that the rank and education of Myrddin was of the same caliber as his own. Yes, in actions, Merlin had taught a lesson that none of his tutors had quite managed. But he didn't know how to even begin to explain this to his father, and the king did not agree with Arthur's change in sentiments about the efficacy of tempering shows of force.

"Our enemies will not see it that way. We have a responsibility to protect this kingdom. Executing the Druid will send out a clear message. Find the boy. Search every inch of the city."

Though Arthur still disliked the magnitude of Uther's response, he was a soldier, and he knew orders when he received them. After the execution of the already detained druid, Arthur would search every room of the castle, looking for the boy.

The subsequent execution was even more distasteful than the act normally was. The druid was a kindly looking man, not some personification of evil that knelt at the block before him. Arthur held his face in a stoic expression. Regardless of the correctness of the verdict, part of upholding the law was standing behind the law, even when such a task was unpleasant. But before the ax fell, Arthur surveyed the crowd, trying to read the expressions of the onlookers. There was one expression he was particularly anxious to see: Merlin's. Did she understand the necessity of executing a punishment? Or was she like Morgana, who avoided all such events, despite Uther's orders? Arthur knew that the ward did not miss many of these executions, unlike what his father thought. Arthur had observed her standing at her window for many of these events, as if to give respect to the one who was dying, but refusing to stand behind Uther to do so.

Looking up at Morgana's casement, he saw that the lady was once more privately observing. But she was not alone. At her right stood Merlin.

Arthur met eyes with his wife for a brief moment, but with such a great distance between them, he could not quite make out the expression in the deep blue orbs. Arthur looked back at the convicted after a moment, but he almost fancied he could feel Merlin continuing to watch him. He hoped that after the search was over, that there would be time to talk, time to discuss again what manner of Camelot they'd endeavor to be rulers of when, in the future, they were the monarchs responsible for sentencing each punishment, for upholding each law.

* * *

Though Merlin's training from Gaius had been somewhat haphazard, Merlin knew that they'd soon need more and better supplies. Leaving Morgana to comfort the boy, who had unleashed enough agonized magic to crack Morgana's mirror when the ax fell, Merlin slipped down to Gaius' hoping he would see her arrival merely as a friendly visit to talk about current affairs.

"Do you know much about the druids?" she asked casually once her visit had extended long enough that Gaius was a bit distracted by his other duties. The ploy worked well initially, Gaius ever anxious to supply knowledge to the curious student. But midway, he stopped, staring at her intently.

"Please tell me you haven't got yourself mixed up in this."

"Me? Mixed up in what?"

"For someone with such a big secret you are a terrible liar."

There was silence. She wasn't going to lie again, and saying anything would likely confirm his suspicions. And Merlin wasn't going to drag Gaius into another one of her magical escapades. Casting her mind about for a safe reason for the questioning, she mentioned that she had heard a voice in her head, calling for help. Gaius seemed slightly appeased by this, mentioning it was indeed an ability the druids looked for in children. As she left, he added his customary cautionary voice, much like a father to his loved, but often headstrong, daughter.

"Hardly settled in Camelot, officially, and you get yourself into all kinds of trouble. Be careful Merlin. Especially while they are searching for this boy. I know you too well." At that warning, Merlin made her way back to the makeshift infirmary, clutching the few supplies she'd gotten from her trip.

* * *

"You are not what I thought you were," Morgana said to Merlin once she had returned after procuring bandages from Gaius. The druid boy had fallen asleep while Merlin was gone, and both women had tacitly agreed to let the child get what solace rest would give him, and not bandage him up until he woke.

Merlin laughed lightly. "What did you think I was?"

"Cold, maybe. Diffident. Not someone who would risk everything to help an unknown, injured child, especially one who has magic. Why did you do it? Even somewhere as far away as Powys, you must know that Uther executes everyone with magic, and everyone who aids them." Morgana was most especially curious about this act of bravery. Even with all her protests, and the safeguard of knowing that Uther cared about her, even if he found her continued antagonism about his magical policies exasperating, and she had never gone so far as to harbor a fugitive.

"I couldn't resist the call for help." Morgana leaned closer to Merlin.

"He spoke to you?" she asked in interest. Merlin nodded her answer. "Out loud?"

Merlin's eyes widened. "He called to you as well?" she asked. The sense of kinship with the other woman which had grown while they ministered to the druid and both turned away from watching the execution further increased. The boy had indeed called to Morgana as she tried to comfort him when he'd screamed. It was Morgana's turn to nod her answer.

"How is this even possible?" the ward wondered aloud.

"I don't know," Merlin admitted. "He is the first druid I have ever met, though I have heard that it is an ability prized among them. It is clearly magic, but to execute someone for such a paltry trick…" Merlin trailed off lost in her thoughts. Morgana similarly ruminated.

Like Merlin, she had not personally met any druids, and knew only a little about them. Her sense of outrage over Uther's determination to execute all of magic kind multiplied. She said as much to Merlin, voicing something that she'd never thought of before, and which she would have hardly dared say without a fellow conspirator.

"What if magic isn't something you chose? What if it chooses you?" Merlin looked surprised at the statement, but not, to Morgana's relief, outraged.

"If that is so, would magic then be unalterably evil?"

"I hardly know," Morgana said slowly. "Uther barely tolerates mention of the word, I have not had much of a chance to consider-."

A knock at the door interrupted them. Meeting eyes, they both leapt to their feet. Merlin scurried behind the red curtain. Morgana barely caught sight of the startled blue eyes of the boy before Merlin pulled the cloth to conceal them both. Assuming a slightly bored expression, Morgana answered the door.

It was Arthur.

"I've come to search your rooms for the druid boy," he said, taking a step forward. Morgana moved in front of him, impeding his entry.

"You're not going through my things," she responded, speaking just as imperiously as Arthur had.

"I have no interest in going through your things," Arthur retorted in irritation. "This search is under the king's orders."

Stalling would only buy them so much time, Morgana realized. She needed to get Arthur to willingly leave. So she called upon a decade's worth of sibling rivalry and sisterly torment, and by declaring that the boy was exactly where the boy was, ensured that Arthur left without looking behind the curtain. No harm done to anyone, except to the prince's patience.

"I'm glad I'm not the one who has to deal with Arthur in that mood," Morgana said once the door had shut behind Arthur. A snort came from behind her, and Morgana turned to see that Merlin had once again opened the drapes.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't want to get used to just angelic Arthur," the girl said. As she talked, Merlin had started to unroll the bandages in preparation for further tending to the boy's wound.

"But you do like him?" Morgana asked. It was more than mere inquisitiveness; she was quickly starting to consider Merlin as a friend, and realized that she wanted the couple to be happy.

"Who wouldn't like all of that pride?" Merlin responded flippantly. But she must have caught sight of Morgana's expression, realized that the lady was serious. She responded in a much more sincere tone. "Yes, I do like him. It's only been three weeks since we were wed, but I think that we're almost," she hesitated, as though searching for the right word, "friends. I think that Arthur and I are friends." Morgana smiled. Though the words implied only a platonic sort of connection, much like Morgana had with the man, the slight blush on Merlin's cheeks, the way she hadn't looked at Morgana while confessing it, spoke much more eloquently. Morgana would be eager to observe the two interacting.

* * *

After that tense moment when Arthur had searched the room (Merlin hadn't even wanted to think what Arthur would say if he had discovered her perched behind the curtain), Merlin realized that with the boy awake, she could redress the wound.

Merlin had never had opportunity to be with another such young magical user; she almost envied the druids. Hunted they might be, but they were unified, united by traditions and birth. As she and Morgana could attest, it was lonely to be different. But at last she'd actually been able to hold a conversation with Morgana about magic. She had promised Gaius that she wouldn't tell Morgana what her dreams portended, that she wouldn't inflict such a burden on the king's ward even if privately Merlin thought the feeling of being alone and different was an equally great burden. Fortunately Morgana hadn't connected the ability to hear the druid with any magic, and the conversation had eased some of Merlin's anxiety when Morgana concluded that magic wasn't necessarily something one chose, and therefore wasn't necessarily evil. Hopefully if the day came that Morgana did start to suspect that she was magical, she would remember this conversation, and wouldn't hate herself for something she couldn't control.

Into these thoughts a voice intruded once again. "Thank you, Emrys."

The foreign sounding name hung in the air, making Merlin pause in her ministrations. The name had had a taste of magic in her mind.

"Emrys?" she replied in kind, the faint chill of the name even stronger when she mentally spoke it. "Why do you call me that?"

The boy was a bit slow to respond, the sentence carrying the weight of his fatigue and injury. "Among my people, that is your name." Merlin looked on in surprise. Merlin was known to the druids? Was this the same great destiny that the dragon had alluded to her from the beginning?

"You know who I am? How?" she thought back. But the boy's eyes had closed, the boy obviously exhausted from his exertions. Merlin continued to stare worriedly at the boy, lost in her own thoughts. At the earliest opportunity, Merlin took leave of Morgana. She needed to consult a dragon.

The dragon was not one to miss a point, having heard the boy calling out for help the same way Merlin had.

"Why does he call me Emrys?" she demanded. Unlike with the wounded boy, she didn't feel sorry at insisting until she received an answer.

"Because that is your name." Merlin thought impatiently that for someone who had spent twenty years alone with few people to come speak to him that he would have become a little more loquacious.

"My name's Merlin. It always has been."

"You have many names." A riddle again. Gaius may have told Merlin that she was 'a riddle wrapped up in a mystery' but at least she directly answered questions. Looks like it was time for a new line of questioning.

"How does the boy know who I am? I've never even met any Druids."

"There is much written about you that you have yet to read." Merlin found that answer not only not satisfying but vaguely ominous. What kind of books had she been written in? She remembered the dragon earlier telling her that she had a destiny stretched in the long strains of time. Was this more of the same? It was overwhelming to think of the implications of that.

"You should not protect this boy," the dragon said.

"Why? He has magic. He's just like me."

"You and the boy are as different as day and night." Merlin looked at the dragon dubiously, surprised that he would reject one of their kind. Surely the boy was too young to be much of anything, except scared, injured, and in need of help. Merlin shook her head and returned above the castle.

The walk did nothing to ease the confusion Merlin felt at her recent conversations. She had just accepted that she had some kind of destiny, resigned herself to it, when she finds out she has a whole other name with some sort of legend attached to it. This is why she disliked visiting the dragon. He was terrible for her peace of mind. Because on top of the worries a quick trip to Morgana's room had added—the boy's wound was infected and he was in need of more expert care then the two ladies could provide—now she had to puzzle out why the dragon didn't want to help the boy.

As her feet had gone accustomed to treading to one place when she was confused, she was hardly surprised to find herself in Gaius' quarters.

Gaius was talking about something, but Merlin was more focused on her own distraction. Eventually she just blurted out what was on her mind.

"Morgana's hiding the boy in her chambers." Gaius looked up in shock.

"Merlin," he said in annoyance. "The guards are searching everywhere and you're harboring him under their noses! What were you thinking of?" Merlin found it interesting that Gaius immediately assumed she was the instigator of this scheme, though she had quite plainly said _Morgana's_ chambers. Then again, it wasn't the first time she had proposed a risky plan to do what she thought right; Gaius did indeed know her well.

He was also waiting for some sort of answer to what she had been thinking. She'd already told about how she could hear the voice in her head, so Merlin answered a slightly different question, namely what was she thinking taking the boy to Morgana's.

"I was thinking that Morgana was more likely to approve of the scheme than Arthur, and my room has a connecting door to his," Merlin offered with a weak joke.

"That is not what I meant," Gaius said sternly. Clearly the flippancy wasn't working here. She explained about the boy being injured, in need of help, so young and pitiable, but Gaius was unmoved. Merlin switched tactics, feeling slightly guilty for using something she was incredibly grateful for against the kind, old man.

"You're saying it's wrong to harbor a young magician." Gaius gave her an inscrutable look, though his reply conveyed his frustrations with her.

"The difference is that your magic is secret, which is a wonder considering how recklessly you use yours."

"You didn't turn your back on me, please don't turn your back on him," she plead. Though he remained reluctant, Gaius did attend to the boy. But once she had secured the physician's aid, she was struck by a sobering thought. She looked at the group assembled around the sickened boy. Morgana, Gaius, Gwen. If she only involved Arthur, she would have effectively risked the lives of everyone she most cared about in Camelot. And all for a boy the dragon warned she should not save, and who still was in grave danger. But it was too late to doubt herself now.

* * *

Once Gaius had healed the boy's arm much better than either of the royal ladies had managed, the physician turned to leave.

"I trust that you realize the danger that you have placed yourselves in by helping his boy," he said gravely. "You must move him out of Camelot soon. The longer he remains here, the greater the chance for discovery." They'd promised Gaius that they'd do so immediately, but a quick reconnaissance trip of where the guards were currently searching for the boy introduced unthought-of impediments. When Gwen and Morgana had gone outside for a completely innocent appearing stroll while Merlin stayed with the druid, they'd realized that any route directly to the lower town was at the moment guarded, and all people passing through were meticulously screened to prevent anyone from doing what the trio was trying to do. They would need a route directly to the lower town if they wanted to remain undetected.

Merlin was not disgruntled by this news.

"There is such a route," Merlin offered quietly. Gwen and Morgana regarded her with surprise. "Arthur was telling me all about the castle and he mentioned a hidden passageway from the armory that leads there." Morgana considered it. This might well be there only chance. She nodded her approval.

Of course, next there was the issues of who was assuming the risk for actually traveling with the boy, a matter which caused some argument. In the end, Morgana prevailed. She had grown attached to the boy in the two days of tending to him. And remembering how the boy had somehow known her name, had somehow spoken it directly into her mind, her resolution only strengthened. It was her duty to be the one to see the boy the final leg of the journey.

"You'll need the key," Merlin said.

"Who has it?" Morgana asked. If it was Uther, then the passage would not be viable.

"Arthur." Merlin's tone indicated that she saw Arthur's possessing the keys as an equally severe limitation. Morgana smirked evilly.

"Well, that's alright then," she said. "You'll be able to get it easily."

"What?" the girl said in shock.

"You are _friends_, aren't you? And married?" Before Merlin could further protest, Morgana hauled the girl to her feet and guided her to the door. "Gwen and I will be preparing for the journey. We'll make the trip tonight." Morgana closed the door on Merlin with a slight regret that she wouldn't know how the girl managed the task. She really didn't know how Merlin was going to get the key, but it would be interesting to see her co-conspirator's foray into thievery.

* * *

Merlin didn't have much of a plan for getting the key from Arthur, but did admit she was the most capable candidate. Time was of the essence, so she headed up to Arthur's chambers, hoping that he was within.

Arthur was indeed dining in his chambers when Merlin arrived. As she reached the doorway, she heard Arthur imperiously demanding some bread. Bern slipped out the door, while Merlin slipped in. It seemed fortuitous. Here was Arthur alone, and distracted by food. Myrddin had stood at the ready behind Arthur for many a meal while Arthur remained almost oblivious to her presence. With her magical talents, she could easily float the key over to where she stood, and no one would be the wiser.

Merlin realized the flaw in her plan as soon as she had fully entered. Arthur had stood up at her presence, and for the second time in as many days Merlin realized that she'd been counting on the relative anonymous mobility of Myrddin. Five months in Camelot had given her a reliable guide to how people responded to Myrddin. Merlin, however, was a very different matter, especially with the prince.

"Would you like to join me for supper?" he asked. "I could send Bern for additional soup." Merlin shook her head in the negative. The last thing she wanted to do was make small talk over the stilting pace of dining. But she needed a reason for coming if it wasn't to eat with him.

"I just wanted to...see you. You've been really busy lately, and I just thought I'd pop by and..." an idea came to Merlin just then, and acting on it before she could think to hesitate, Merlin closed the distance between them. Tugging on Arthur's jerkin, Merlin pulled him close enough that she could reach his face. Puckering her lips, she closed her eyes and kissed him.

Merlin had no practical experience in initiating such a thing, so wasn't entirely sure that this was the way one approached it. But after a surprised second, Arthur had responded to the kiss, wrapping his arms around her. Kissing Arthur was more distracting than Merlin would have predicted. Arthur had none of the hesitant inexperience Merlin did, and easily took control of the situation. The feel of the softly demanding lips on hers was enough to send off all thoughts of her latest treasonous, thieving, rescue mission and just focus on the sensation.

Several moments passed before Merlin remembered that there was a task at hand. Slowly shifting her hands to Arthur's hips, she gently ran her fingers along the edge of his belt until she came to the keys. Hoping that Arthur wouldn't notice the slight tug as she pulled the necessary keys away, she relaxed when she was able to hold them, silently clenched, in her hand.

Once that was accomplished, Merlin once again fully invested herself in the kiss, warmth spreading through her the longer it continued.

There was a knock on the door, and Arthur and Merlin jumped away from each other. Bern walked in, having successfully scavenged some bread from the scullery maids.

"My lady," Bern said with a bow. "Should I get another plate?" he asked in the slow, measured speech he always used. Merlin shook her head.

"I'll just be going," she said, clasping her hands in front of her, hoping neither man would see the keys she held. And it gave her a good excuse not to look back at Arthur. But as she left to deliver the key to Morgana, she could have sworn she could still feel Arthur's lips on hers, the phantom sensation a seemingly indelible reminder. It was ridiculous, but even in the acute anxiety that was abounding, and the tasks that still needed her attention, Merlin could hardly contain her smile. As she walked down the hall, she concluded it was a little embarrassing to have initiated their first kiss, but as she almost skipped down the hall, she could hardly bring herself to care. In a far happier mindset than she'd been on the way to seek the key, Merlin returned to Morgana's chambers.

* * *

Morgana, meanwhile, was assessing herself in the mirror. She was attired in a common serving girl dress, her hair arranged in the unadorned type of bun Guinevere favored. She hoped that it would be enough of a disguise that they would be able to pull off this plan. Worriedly she wondered where Merlin was, hoping that there had been no problems. A few moments later, Merlin arrived, quickly coming over to where they group stood. She held up the key triumphantly.

"How did you get it?" Morgana asked curiously. Merlin averted her eyes, saying instead, "The door is behind the second shield at the far end of the armory."

Gwen had packed them some food, and giving a brave smile to the boy, and a nod to her two friends, Morgana led the way through the castle on their silent journey, tensely avoiding the guards.

* * *

Unfortunately, one servant had seen two figures, one a child, entering the armory. The prince was quickly summoned, and upon seeing the shield no longer hiding the door, he soon realized the key locking the door was gone from its customary place on his hips. Sending someone to ring the warning bell, Arthur quickly gathered enough guards to start searching the lower town before the intruder could exit the city.

Knowing as he did the length of the secret passage, Arthur was able to easily guess where the escapees would be. Within a relatively short time, two cloaked figures had been surrounded. Pressing the tip of his sword at the back of the taller of the two, Arthur warned the intruder not to run.

"Please," came a familiar voice. "He's just a child." The figure turned their head, and despite the strangeness of the apparel Morgana sported, it was undoubtedly the king's ward who stood there. Arthur gaped at her in surprise.

The fallout of this revelation was rather stunning. Uther was outraged and betrayed by Morgana's behavior, and immediately sentenced the child to death. Morgana tried to plead with the king, but he was resolute. In fact, the longer his ward plead, the more resolute Uther seemed to become. "And I expect to see you at your place, watching the execution," Uther decreed. "You did not attend the last one, no doubt because you were attending to this demon child, but the law will be upheld, and you will witness it."

Morgana exited the room in great distress. Arthur tried to intercede on the child's behalf, but Uther was less inclined to clemency than he had been when he first ordered Arthur to find the lad. Arthur gave a nod to the king, and then left.

He'd realized something as Uther gave his order; Morgana _had_ watched the execution, at least part of it. She'd watched it from her window. But she hadn't observed it alone. Arthur had seen the other woman at the window: Merlin. If Morgana had indeed been attending to the boy at the time, his wife must also have known.

The prince felt such a fool. Morgana had to have concealed the boy behind the very curtain she'd indicated, then goaded him into not looking there. Merlin's absence was also explained; she must have kept the boy quiet while he searched. He had wondered where Merlin was when he'd conducted the druid-hunt, her disappearance not explained by her masquerading as Myrddin, as the manservant had also been absent. Other than that brief glimpse at the windowsill, the only moment he'd actually interacted with his wife was when she'd showed up while he had been eating supper, when she'd delivered that impromptu (though extremely enjoyable) kiss. Arthur's hand flew to where his ring of keys hung from his belt, realizing as he did so at just what moment his key had been stolen.

Arthur didn't know what the greater indignity was: that she'd stolen from him, or that she'd successfully seduced him to do so.

Arthur had reached the corridor with Morgana's room, and stopped to offer what comfort he could to the girl. Having just realized the extent of his wife's participation in the whole affair, he was unsurprised when it was Merlin who answered the door. Once within, he found himself the recipient of two appraising looks; Morgana's was more condemning, Merlin's was more resigned.

"I tried to beg clemency for the boy," he said. "Father will not grant it. I'm sorry."

"You can't let him do this," Morgana cried passionately. "This is wrong; it's murder. You must realize it is wrong."

"What would you have me do?" Arthur asked tiredly. "Disobey my king?" Morgana's stubborn silence spoke rather eloquently. Arthur turned away. In only a few days, Arthur would come of age, and he would take the title of crown prince, swearing to uphold and defend the laws and people of the land. What manner of oath would it be if he had only a week prior defied the law?

"Has he directly ordered you not to help the boy?" asked Merlin quietly.

Arthur turned back around. "What?"

"If the king hasn't ordered you not to save the boy, and if you hesitate because of your duty to the people of this land, then this boy is one of your subjects. He has not stood any trial, and he is but a child. Any crime he has committed would be that he was born, entered this city, and was subsequently wounded and captured." Arthur considered this. He agreed with the main of these points, and in the unenviable situation where he must choose between his father, his king, his conscious, his wife and his virtual sister, then he would choose wife, sister, and most of his moral code.

Both had smiled at him when he'd agreed to the plan, and soon a course of action had been decided. Morgana was to stay out of the action, was in fact to have the king himself be her alibi by dining with him. The other two would detail the exact details of the rescue. Privately, Arthur concluded that Merlin being able to double as Myrddin would further aid the plan. But even though he was grateful for his wife's help, and despite being surprisingly okay with her decision to harbor the boy, there had to be some retribution for stealing from him, while kissing him. Determining that once the boy was safely away, he'd exact his revenge, Arthur set out to make some arrangements. He would send word to the boy's people, let them know that they were smuggling him out of the citadel and that they needed to be ready to receive him.

* * *

The rescue mission was all planned, every one needing to be in place. While Arthur was slipping into the dungeon and lowering a sack emitting enough gas to temporarily knock out the prison guards, and then stealing the key and quickly unlocking the cell with the druid, Morgana was entering the dining hall were Uther was enjoying his own private feast. Humbly she begged his forgiveness, and Uther sent for an extra plate, pleased the girl he loved like a daughter was returning to him.

But one important player was not in position. Myrddin sat in Gaius' back room, warring with herself what she should do. After agreeing to help with a second rescue attempt, she had again visited the dragon. With the dragon's promise that this boy would be the one to kill Arthur, allowing him to grow up to commit such a heinous act—as she had told Gaius—was unthinkable.

Yet killing a child because he might grow up to do something terrible, wasn't that why Uther had refused to give the child mercy? Arthur had recounted his conversation with his father, and Merlin had prickled at Uther's continued bigotry towards all with magic. Merlin jolted out of her bed and her inaction. She would not become her father-in-law, condemning people before they committed a crime. She would watch over her husband, ensure that this child would not fulfill the dragon's words.

Knowing she was already setting off later than she should, Merlin hastily made her way out of the palace, taking Arthur's horse from the stables, and quickly sneaking to the tunnel opening. Before she quite got there, the boy began to cry out in her mind and the sound was so desperate she could not regret coming to save him.

However, she had been slower than she ought, though there was still time for an escape, and Arthur's impatience was clear. "Where the hell have you been?" Arthur asked once the grate was pulled away.

"I had trouble getting out of the castle." The answer sounded weak to both adults, but there were more pressing matters.

Meanwhile, the boy stared at the figure that had just appeared. Myrddin stared back, wondering if the same magic that had told him the princess was Emrys would also recognize her alter ego. The child stared some, but sent a telepathic 'thank you' to Emrys, promising that they would meet again. This was an unexpected development to Merlin; her great disguise and her great secret, both could be detected by at least some druids. And quite possibly by others with telepathic magic. It was trusting people she'd never met with her life. And it scared her a bit, as did the promise that they would meet again. What did the boy know?

In an undertone, Arthur turned back, instructing Merlin to have an ironclad excuse for his absence. "Say I've gone on a hunting trip."

Merlin scoffed at that. What kind of person would have their suspicions allayed by Arthur conveniently disappearing on a secret midnight hunting trip?

"Or I'll just say that you were with me. After all, we are newlyweds." Merlin grinned cheekily. She was really growing quite bold with Arthur. Weeks of them ignoring for the most part the realities of them being married, and here she was kissing him and providing alibis. Arthur too was surprised at her comment, though he gave a cocky smirk. And if we had not already stretched the time to incredulous points, what with the shadow's of the guards' searching torches having already illuminated the far end of the passage before Merlin even arrived with the horses, Arthur might have made a comment about Merlin's increased boldness, or him going to get his revenge for her stealing her keys. But it is not allowable in the time frame they were operating under, so without another word, Arthur and the boy mounted the horse and Merlin retraced her journey back to her chambers.

* * *

Overall the excitement of the druid's unexplained disappearance soon faded in light of more pressing matters and life began to settle into its comfortable routine. But for the main participants in the fiasco, life in Camelot was never quite the same. Arthur, for his part, was quite indignant about Merlin's little larceny. And Morgana had discovered something precious: a new friend.

The day after the boy's final escape, Merlin was surprised at the knock at her door. She knew Arthur had returned early that morning, but had been almost immediately ensconced in meetings with his father, who was less than pleased at the boy's second disappearance. Merlin was rather restless as she waited for him to return, becoming more easily irked by Sevryn's primly proper presence. At last she'd ordered Sevryn away on a long list of chores, all of which conveniently could not be done in Merlin's room.

As Merlin assigned the tasks, she realized she had devised almost as many chores as Arthur typically did, but absolved herself of any guilt by reflecting that Sevryn appeared to revel in a plethora of duties. With these cheery thoughts, Merlin was the one who answered the knock at her door.

"Morgana!" she cried in surprise, though she stepped back to let the other woman in, ushering her to the seldom used area of Merlin's chambers designed for such visitors.

But Morgana stayed where she was standing. "Actually, I've come to see if you would like to come down to the market with me, go on a little shopping trip. You've only been in Camelot a few weeks, and I always enjoy a Camelotian market day." Merlin was surprised at the invitation, but pleased, glad that Morgana was extending their ease in interacting as fellow royals beyond tending to the boy. She quickly gathered her necessary things for such an excursion and they left.

As the pair traversed the land between castle and market, Morgana informed Merlin of a secondary motive for the trip: Morgana was anxious for any news Merlin had on the escape. Unfortunately, Merlin didn't have much, except the information that Arthur had taken the boy to the Darkling Woods.

Morgana had been horrified by this, and had hastily explained to the foreigner that the Darkling Woods were considered dangerous lands. Not only were many bandits secreted within, there were whole packs of strange and lethal creatures. Merlin had never heard of serkets, for instance, and was horrifiedly fascinated at Morgana's grotesque descriptions. Morgana had never seen the creatures herself, but they enjoyed repulsing the other with the idea of large pincers and poisonous stingers.

Despite the dark reputation of the place, Merlin assured Morgana that Arthur had sent word for the druids to meet him there, and that the druids were likely safe within the boundaries of the forest. There were fewer patrols among the wilder parts and together they surmised that having magic must provide some defense.

After they had exhausted every bit of their limited information on the topic, the girls lost themselves in the pleasures of shopping. Merlin had of course been to the lower town market many times since she had arrived five and a half months ago, but it was different to be deferred to so politely by some of the no nonsense tradesman she'd impolitely haggled with as a lad.

They had a nice time looking at various frivolities. Merlin actually purchased some necessary amenities, including replacement bandages for Gaius. Morgana had been surprised at first, but hastily agreed it was the right thing to do, with Gaius having risked so much to help them. After a couple of hours of shopping the duo returned to the palace, both resolving to deepen their friendship. As Morgana said, dropping Merlin off at her chambers, Arthur was like a brother, making Morgana and Merlin 'practically sisters.'

* * *

Arthur was lounging in one of the chairs in Merlin's quarters when she returned from the shopping trip.

"Arthur!" she said in some surprise. While she had long ago become very comfortable with waiting in Arthur's chambers (especially when she was avoiding Sevryn), Arthur had not yet gained the same level of familiarity with Merlin's. "Everything went all right with the druid boy then?" she asked, once she had closed the door and ascertained that Sevryn was indeed still absent with the long list of chores Merlin had given her.

"Oh yes, Mordred made it safely to the druids," Arthur said. "I was wondering about something though." Merlin's heart quickened a bit. Arthur must be here with some questions about magic! He had just helped rescue a druid and must have seen something that made him question all the summary executions. Merlin hardly knew what to say, how she would convey the innocence magic could be without playing her hand too soon. But she was eager for such a discussion. She moved closer.

"Yes?" she said in an excited, almost breathy, voice. Arthur looked up from where he had been idly flipping through the books and papers she had left on her table, turning his attention to her directly.

"Was that your first time kissing somebody?" Merlin stopped advancing, feeling her cheeks begin to redden. She'd rather enjoyed the kiss, and was suddenly very worried about it. Had her inexperience really been that noticeable? She didn't have a ready response for Arthur, a rarity with her normally glib tongue. After an embarrassed pause in which she felt she must say something, she stammered through the first comment that came to mind.

"Well, I-I haven't had a lot of time to practice kissing in between cleaning your socks and spending time in the stocks."

"Of course," Arthur said in a diplomatic voice, though the smirk belied the tone. "Which is why I have graciously found some time to give you some lessons."

"Lessons?" Merlin asked warily, taking a step back. Where was Sevryn when a girl actually needed her?

"Yes. The first step is quite obviously proximity," Arthur said striding towards her.

"Proximity?" Merlin said with a slight falter, taking another step backwards. It had been a simple enough thing to kiss Arthur earlier, but all the time contemplating it after had succeeded in making the idea of a repeat performance quite awkward.

"Yes, proximity," Arthur repeated. "Which makes your running away more than a little bit counterproductive." Merlin stiffened at that. Was Arthur accusing her of cowardice? Her blush hadn't disappeared, but she ceased her retreat, meaning Arthur was close, quite close, within moments.

"The next step, and this one can be surprisingly difficult, is putting your arms somewhere. I personally have found it works out nicely if you put them around my neck," Arthur said, suiting the words by gently guiding her arms in the corresponding action. When Merlin's arms were in place, Arthur put his own around her waist. Though they were not physically any closer than they had been a moment before, it felt much closer to be embracing him this way.

Arthur leaned in, giving Merlin a series of gentle kisses, all the while tightening his grip on her waist. Merlin, or at least the small part of Merlin that was still running a commentary in her mind, thought that a safe course of action might be to follow Arthur's lead, mimicking his movements. When Arthur began to shift his hands, one tangling in her curly hair, Merlin ventured to move her own. Her fingers had barely, tentatively slid up into Arthur's hair when Arthur deepened the kiss.

But only for a moment. It seemed Arthur had more 'lesson' to impart. He pulled his head back enough that he could look her in the eye, though he didn't release his hold on her.

"Doesn't this work so much better?" Arthur asked. "This way, I know exactly where your hands are, and I won't have to worry about you _stealing my keys_ next time you want to kiss me."

Merlin opened her mouth in surprise, but no sound came out. Her face heated up again, and she tried to back away, but Arthur wasn't releasing her. She had slipped the keys back into Arthur's room while he slept and had assumed he hadn't noticed. Where was oblivious Arthur when she needed him?

"It goes so much better when there isn't an ulterior motive involved. And kissing me really should be its own reward," Arthur concluded quite conceitedly. Merlin gaped at the arrogance of that statement. But her slightly opened mouth didn't give Arthur any pause; Merlin after all, still had quite a bit to learn about kissing, though the entire 'lesson' Arthur refused to let Merlin move her hands any lower, "just in case."

* * *

_alternate title:_

_In Which We Begin to Wonder How Much of the Tragedy of Camelot is Actually Directly the Result of the Dragon Talking to Merlin, Which Leads Us to Conclude, that Magical Beings Should Never Be Allowed to Be Bored._


End file.
